


Better With Who?

by allonym



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonym/pseuds/allonym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a beach in Norway, Rose Tyler chooses the Time Lord in the TARDIS. But events don’t unfold exactly as she’d hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, the woman who traversed universes to help save all of reality, had been sent to her room like a sulky teenager. This room made her  _feel_  like a sulky teenager. It was embarrassingly pink and girlish, and appeared untouched since she’d last been here, that fateful day when the Cybermen and Daleks broke through at Canary Warf. There was even a pile of clean clothes on the unmade bed, from where she dropped them after picking up her clean laundry at her mum’s. The make-up in the bathroom was all dried up, and there was a thin layer of dust on the dresser.   
  
The dust made it clear that the TARDIS was using the room to send her a not-so-subtle message, since there was never dust in the TARDIS unless the ship wanted there to be.  
  
“Okay, I get it,” she said, speaking generally to the air. “I can’t just go back to the way things used to be. But I can move forward, can’t I?”  
  
The TARDIS gave what Rose optimistically hoped was an encouraging hum. Rose knew she made the right choice. Yes, the “human” Doctor could have given her a normal human life, with a house, curtains and carpet. Maybe even children. But Rose never wanted that sort of life, not even before she met the Doctor, when she was just drifting and waiting for something to happen. If she had no choice, then yes, he’d be the perfect partner. Given a choice, though, she’d pick the stars, and the Time Lord, every time.   
  
She did feel bad for the human Doctor, since he was clearly not welcome to stay on the TARDIS. He had to move quickly to keep from getting stranded in the other universe, and for a moment Rose thought that the proper Doctor was going to physically throw him back out. But the human Doctor held his ground and gave a good impression of the other Doctor’s “Oncoming Storm” glare.  
  
“I know you’re not happy with me right now, but nothing I’ve done could possibly warrant being trapped in another universe with Jackie Tyler, and no Rose.”   
  
The Doctor had to concede the point. Rose thought that her mum was more likely to baby the human Doctor than yell or slap him, but that might’ve been just as bad. Rose herself had said her goodbyes when they were still on the TARDIS, so she escaped with just a quick hug. Her mum knew all along that she and Mickey weren’t coming back.  
  
They ended up dropping the human Doctor off at Sarah Jane’s house. They didn’t even go in for a visit, but just watched him trudge through the rain to her front door, hunched in his coat. Rose had to smile at the coat; he had flung it on without thinking as soon as they landed in Sarah Jane’s neighborhood.  
  
“Oi! That’s my coat! Janice Joplin gave me that coat!” the Doctor had shouted in outrage.  
  
“I know, I remember the day she gave it to me. I love this coat. Which reminds me, I’m also going to need. . .this!” said the human Doctor, as he walked over to the Doctor, flipped open his suit jacket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. He quickly stepped backwards, out of range, and slipped the screwdriver in his own pocket.  
  
“What?!” said the Doctor.  
  
“ _You_  can get another screwdriver.  _You_  get to keep the TARDIS.  _You_  get to stay with Rose Tyler. Least I could get is a coat and a screwdriver. Stop being so greedy, you pilchard!” said the human Doctor, crossing his arms.  
  
The Doctor looked like he wanted to say something more, but Donna stepped between them and gave the human Doctor a hug.  
  
“Sound like you still got a bit of my voice, Spaceman,” she said, holding him tight.  
  
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Earthgirl,” he said, looking very sad. He met the eyes of the other Doctor over Donna’s shoulder, and gave him a little nod, which the Doctor returned.  
  
“Well, best be off. Rose, have a fantastic life. Seriously. And  _you_ ,” he said, pointing at the Doctor, “Don’t be any more of a prat than you have to be.” He spun in place, coat tails flying and strode out into the rain.   
  
The Doctor waited until Sarah Jane let the other man into her house before shutting the TARDIS door. He walked over to Rose to speak softly in her ear.  
  
“Rose, I need you to go to your room for a bit while I talk to Donna.”  
  
Rose started to protest, but the bleak look on his face stopped her. He’d been pushed pretty hard, starting with her refusal to stay where he wanted to plant her. Best let him get his way for now.  
  
“Alright, I’m going to lie down,” she said. “It’s been a busy day.” The Doctor gave her hand a quick squeeze in thanks, which made her feel better about being sent away.  
  
Donna gave a great big laugh. “You could say that again! Although I’m not the least bit tired. Must be my new Time Lord brain, just can’t stop thinking. You know, Doctor, if you rerouted the temporal manifold circuitry through the secondary power coupling, you could increase engine efficiency by 5.7%. What do you say?”   
  
Rose tuned out the rest of their technobabble as she made her way down the corridor to her old room. Where she now sat, wondering what was taking so long. Maybe. . .maybe they were talking about the kindest way to get rid of an unwanted human interloper? She hadn’t gotten the least feeling of jealousy from Donna, and in fact the other woman seemed incredibly pleased that Rose had found the Doctor. But maybe now she was part Time Lord, she would change her mind.  
  
She pushed the thought away. Not very likely that either the Doctor or Donna would’ve changed that much, so no sense borrowing trouble. If it turned out to be the case, then she’d just deal with it then.   
  
Just when she was about ready to give up and go back to the console room, she heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS engine and felt the tug at her insides that told her they’d dematerialized. A few bumps later, another tug told her they’d landed.  
  
Maybe they’d just forgotten her? Well, regardless she’d waited long enough. She strode through the corridors determinedly, only to be brought up short in the console room. No one there. A peek outside showed it still raining, although in a different neighborhood. With a start she realized it was Donna’s neighborhood. She recognized it from when she followed the other woman around in the pocket universe. Maybe Donna had some personal business at home.  
  
The thought calmed Rose and she decided to go back through her room and see if there was anything of use. Most of the clothes were too small or too young or both. She’d filled out some in the past few years, and felt like she aged quite a bit more. She was happy to find her photo album, and diary still in her bedside drawer. The ipod was a nice find too, although her music tastes had shifted some as well. In the end, the “to keep” pile fit into a medium size box, which she found conveniently under the bed.  
  
Taking the hint, she went in search of a new bedroom. When she opened the door to a room tastefully accented in blues and greens, she knew she found the right place. It was a bit sterile, like a hotel room, but that would change over time. She put away her possessions and took a shower, changing into a navy blue track suit (one of the few items that still fit).   
  
Since there was still no sign of Donna or the Doctor, she went to the wardrobe to see if she could expand her wardrobe. The TARDIS was being uncooperative, though. All the choices were too fancy or too strange. Really, animal skins? She just needed something comfortable that would work in most social settings but that she could still run in.   
  
She still hadn’t found anything suitable when the TARDIS engines engaged again. By the time she reached the console room, they’d stabilized in the time vortex. The Doctor was at the console, dripping wet and staring blankly at the controls. Rose cleared her throat.  
  
“Is it safe to come out now?” she asked.  
  
He blinked his eyes at her, and then smiled. But it was his “I’m always alright” smile, and came nowhere near his eyes. “Ah Rose, yes. I was just thinking about where to go now.”  
  
Rose looked around. “Where’s Donna?”  
  
“She’s home. Safe with her family,” he said, fiddling with the controls and not looking at her.  
  
“What? Why should she go home? She loves it here! It’s not. . .it’s not because of me, is it?” Oh, that would be terrible, after all Donna had done. After sending one version of Donna to her death in the pocket universe; the last thing Rose wanted to push her out of the TARDIS.  
  
“No! Believe it or not, some things in the universe are not about you!” At Rose’s shocked look, the Doctor ran his hand over his face. “Sorry, sorry. Donna had to stay home, for her own safety. Her brain was burning up; I had to take the Time Lord part away. And I don’t want to talk about it further.”  
  
“Oh,” she said. Poor Donna. Poor Doctor.   
  
“So! Where should we go now?” he said, with a forced grin. It was a terrible imitation of his usual manic cheer. At least he was trying, she supposed. Now, where could she suggest that might ease his pain a little? Her mind flashed thought all the amazing places they traveled together, and then it came to her.  
  
“Chips,” she said, with a playful smile  
  
“Chips? Anyplace, in time and space, and you want chips?” he asked, in mock horror.  
  
“Yes, chips. The chips in the other universe were rubbish. I want to go someplace with decent chips.”  
  
He gave an exaggerated sigh and then smiled. A real smile this time. “I think I might know just the place.”  
  
Sure enough, they landed not far from the little chippy on Gloucester Road that he’d taken her so many years ago, after Platform One, and they found a table no problem. As Rose’s teeth penetrated the steaming hot wedge of potato, her eyes closed and she let out a moan. It had been a long, long time since she’d had a proper chip. In the other universe they used the wrong sort of oil, and some type of seasoning that didn’t even exist here. After she swallowed, she opened her eyes to see the Doctor staring at her, and looking infinitely sad. Then his expression turned carefully blank.  
  
“Sorry,” she said. “I really missed chips. Funny, isn’t it, that I can go to other planets where people have tentacles and the food is blue and I feel right at home. But in that other universe so many things were  _almost_  the same, but not quite, I could never really relax.”  
  
He gave her an absent-minded smile, but didn’t speak. A bad sign, him not speaking. Her Time Lord-minding skills were a little rusty, but she remembered enough not to try to push past his reserve at this point. He’d only shut down more, or blow up. She needed to either distract him, or give him some space. Her mind sorted through possible conversations, but they all seemed to touch on potentially painful topics. So space it would have to be.  
  
“Doctor?” she asked, as she finished her last chip. “Would you mind if I did a bit of shopping before we left? Most of my old clothes don’t fit anymore, and the TARDIS wardrobe is being uncooperative.”  
  
“Shopping? You wouldn’t need me, would you?” he asked, apprehensively.  
  
“Naw, not in London. You can go fiddle with the TARDIS or something. I imagine she might like the attention, after all she’s been through. I could meet you back there in, say, six hours. Is that too long?” she asked.  
  
“Oh six hours should be fine, fine. Take as much time as you want, actually. You’re right, I do need to check on the TARDIS; it’s not every day she escapes from a core of neutrino energy, tugs a planet across the galaxy, and then plays taxi service to another universe,” he said with a grin.   
  
So they stopped by the TARDIS for some more currency, and then she left the Doctor in the console room looking much happier. Hopefully a few hours of tinkering would help bring him back to his old self. That thought helped her enjoy her time alone as well; nice to just walk casually into a shop, without worrying about the end of the universe or anything. She was also happy to find some good discounts. It was full dark when she returned, loaded down with shopping bags, to the small side street where the TARDIS was parked.  
  
Except that it wasn’t parked there. The TARDIS was gone. Her heart sunk all the way to her shoes. Had he really done it, gone and left her like he had Sarah Jane, and who knows how many others? She’d like to think it wasn’t possible, but the way he’d been acting. . .well, she could deal with this, she could cope. Dammit, she wasn’t the same little shop girl she’d been when they first met. She was a fully grown woman who could take care of herself.  
  
But she couldn’t stop the tears of relief that came when she heard the familiar _vwrop vwrop vwrop_  of the TARDIS materializing. A moment later, the Doctor opened the door.  
  
“Ah, good! You’re still there. Sorry about that — I had a bit of trouble with a bus, and then UNIT ended up moving the TARDIS. Just trying to be helpful, they were, so can’t really fault them. Anyway, it’s all been sorted, and I have a surprise!”   
  
He was bouncing on his heels with excitement and her heart lifted. Now here was her old Doctor. She quickly followed him into the TARDIS and dropped her bags by the door. Then she froze, seeing a strange woman leaning casually against the railing, backpack at her feet. Tall, gorgeous, with long raven black hair and dressed in a skin-tight black clothes. Suddenly Rose felt very short and frumpy in her old navy track suit.   
  
“Rose Tyler, may I present you to Lady Christina de Souza!” said the Doctor with a flourish.  
  
And she’s an aristocrat as well. Lovely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlier that evening, on board the TARDIS. . .

The Doctor’s little blue box was not so little after all, at least not on the inside. Christina turned round in a full circle, taking in all the details of the console room.   
  
“This is amazing!” she said, not trying to hide her excitement. “It’s. . .”   
  
“Bigger on the inside. Yes, I know,” said the Doctor. He watched her with a smug expression on his face.   
  
“Well, you certainly are full of surprises,” she said.   
  
“Oh Christina, you have no idea,” he replied with a grin.   
  
She returned it with an enigmatic smile of her own. “Oh Doctor, I believe I have  _some_  ideas,” she said, and was rewarded with him looking startled, and a bit uncertain.    
  
She hadn’t intended to imply anything specific, but it was important to keep him on his toes. He had a personality that could easily overwhelm the average person, and she had no intention of letting him overwhelm her.   
  
He cleared his throat. “Right then. Best be off before that Detective Inspector of yours manages to get past UNIT and start banging on the doors,” he said, turning his attention to the control panel. She stood behind him, watching closely as he pulled down a lever, wound up a crank, and then pushed several buttons. It all looked rather random.   
  
“Where are we going?” she asked.   
  
“Gloucester Road,” he answered, flipping a switch. “Better hang on.” The green light in the glass tower in the center of the console started to move up and down, and the strangest grinding noise filled the air.   
  
Christina grabbed the rail. “Gloucester Road? Here in London? What’s there?”   
  
“Well, most recently, chips,” he said. “But now I’m hoping to find Rose Tyler. She should be done with her shopping by now. Hope we don’t have to chase her down.”   
  
Interesting. Nothing in their interactions to date had hinted at another woman in the picture. He was no doubt waiting for her to start quizzing him about this Rose person, so instead she stayed quiet. She’d be better off getting information directly from the source, anyway. With a bump and a rumble, the ship quieted down. They’d presumably arrived. The Doctor hurried to the door and stuck his head outside and started talking to someone.   
  
“Ah, good! You’re still there. Sorry about that — I had a bit of trouble with a bus, and then UNIT ended up moving the TARDIS. Just trying to be helpful, they were, so can’t really fault them. Anyway, it’s all been sorted, and I have a surprise!”    
  
He stepped back to usher in a young woman with bottle-blonde hair, weighted down by several packages. She put them off to the side and then stepped all the way in, closing the door behind her. Then she turned to face Christina, and froze in place.   
  
“Rose Tyler, may I present you to Lady Christina de Souza!” announced the Doctor.   
  
Oh bother. She wished she never told him about her title. She’d only done it because he was being so damn mysterious, calling himself “the Doctor.”    
  
She braced herself for either fawning or scorn from the other woman. However, after her initial look of shock, Rose approached with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand.   
  
“Welcome to the TARDIS, Lady Christina. Although if we’re going to be throwing titles around, I’m technically Dame Rose Tyler,” said Rose, with a grin at the Doctor.   
  
“That’s right, I forgot! Bestowed by Queen Victoria herself, after you helped take care of her werewolf problem,” said the Doctor with a reminiscent smile.   
  
“Did you also forget you still owe me ten quid?” asked Rose. She turned to Christina with a fake whisper. “I bet him that I could get her majesty to say ‘We are not amused,’ and she did!”   
  
“She also promptly banished us from the British Empire, and founded the Torchwood institute, with the express purpose of hunting me down,” he said, suddenly grim.   
  
“But it turned out alright in the end, didn’t it? Not even Torchwood could keep us apart,” said Rose, but the Doctor just looked away and started fiddling with the console.   
  
The comfortable banter was replaced by a painful silence. Christina was having trouble figuring out these two. Even though the Doctor had said he was a time traveler, the casual reference to Queen Victoria and werewolves seemed like a wind-up. But the flash of pain on the Doctor’s face told her that somewhere in all the silliness was an uncomfortable truth.   
  
The Doctor seemed to shrug off the awkwardness and turned back to the two women with a smile. “So, where should we go next?” he asked.   
  
“A different planet, please!” said Rose, with deliberate cheer. “I’ve spent the last few years on alternative Earths, and I’m ready for a new sky, and some different ground beneath my feet!”   
  
“Well, we just came from another planet, and I’ll be happy with any place not covered with sand made from billions of dead people. I still haven’t gotten it all out of my hair!” said Christina, with a shudder.   
  
“Oh, you just had one of  _those_  adventures,” said Rose. She turned to look at the Doctor sternly. “Really, Doctor, were you raised by wild things or something? Before we go anywhere, I’m going to help Lady Christina find her room, a shower and some fresh clothes.”   
  
“Please, call me Christina. The ‘Lady’ is just for when I want to try to impress mysterious time-traveling men. I’d really love a shower, and after running through the desert chased by hungry flying metal sting rays, I’m guessing a really need a change of clothes,” said Christina.   
  
The Doctor blinked as if he were trying to figure out what just happened, and then smiled at Rose. “Good idea, you get her settled. I’ll just do a final check on the TARDIS engines — I didn’t actually finish before. Got distracted when the tiny hole in the fabric of the universe opened up and I decided to track it down.”    
  
Rose gathered up her bags and led Christina to a long corridor with doors on both sides.   
  
“Okay, last I checked these were all bedrooms. This one’s mine,” she said, bumping open the door with her hip and placing her bags inside. “Let’s see if we can find yours. Pick a door, any door. . .”   
  
The door next to Rose’s opened to room with a bed shaped like a race car. Rose glanced over at Christina’s incredulous expression and laughed. “I’m sure she likes race cars, dear, but not to sleep in," she said, speaking to the open air.   
  
“Who are you talking to?” asked Christina warily.   
  
“The TARDIS. Hasn’t the Doctor given you the speech yet? She’s his ship — Time and Relative Dimension in Space - T - A - R - D - I - S. She’s telepathic and very smart, but sometimes it can take a little while for her to get in sync with her passengers. I remember when Jack first came on board. . .”   
  
“Who’s Jack?” asked Christina. She wondered how many other passengers there were on this mad ship.   
  
“Oh, just a bloke who used to travel with us. Anyway, the TARDIS controls everything inside her, and she usually arranges things to keep her passengers happy, based on what she sees in their minds."    
  
"So you're saying I've got a sentient spaceship inside my head?" asked Christina incredulously.   
  
"Yeah, I was a little freaked out at first, too. But you get used to it pretty quickly. Very handy when traveling, 'cause she automatically translates most every language for you," said Rose.   
  
Hmm, this did have possibilities. First, she needed to ascertain the best location for her new bedroom. "So, where is the Doctor's room?"   
  
"Not sure. He doesn't really sleep, not like humans do. You know he's an alien, right? He's always complaining about humans sleeping a third of their lives away. Although I did catch him napping in the library, once." Rose gave a devilish grin, and Christina wondered what sort of childish prank the girl had played.   
  
Anyway, she might as well pick a room near Rose, then. She walked up to the next door and firmly thought about her ideal bedroom, the room she would have someday once she'd amassed enough money. Eighteenth-century French neo-classical period pieces, lush carpets, and a fireplace. She thought she felt a gentle pressure in her mind, but she applied all her self-discipline to push back. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. For a moment the pressure increased, and then it yielded.   
  
With a smile, she opened the door, and, sure enough, there was her room, just as she pictured it.   
  
"Blimey!" said Rose. "I haven't seen anything this fancy since Madame De Pompadour's bedroom. I take it that this is the room you'd like?"   
  
Christina smile. "Yes, I think this should do."   
  
"Okay, then. I'll leave you to wash up. You can put your clothes down the laundry chute; there should be a robe on the back of the bathroom door. When you're done, come by my room and I'll take you to the wardrobe for some fresh clothes."   
  
Unfortunately the bathroom did not match the bedroom, but it had all the basics. It did take some concentration on her part to get the water the right temperature. Clearly dealing properly with the TARDIS took an application of disciplined thought. Luckily Christina exceled in that area. The shower did feel amazing. The pear-scented soap and shampoo were unusual, but did the job. She wrapped a towel around her head, slipped on the bathrobe and went in search of Rose.   
  
Rose had just finished putting away her purchases and was happy to lead Christina down a confusing set of corridors to the wardrobe.   
  
"When I visited here this morning, all I could find was dress-up clothes and costumes, which is why I went shopping, but you'll probably have better luck. I think the TARDIS just wanted me to give the Doctor some alone time," said Rose, as they entered the multi-stored wardrobe room. Rose led the way up a winding staircase to a landing with a variety of women's fashions.   
  
"Have you known the Doctor long?" Christina asked, eying the racks of clothing.   
  
"That's sort of a hard question to answer. I met him when I was nineteen, and we traveled together for a couple of years. Hard to say exactly how long; it's difficult to keep track of time in the TARDIS. Then we were separated, and I spent several years stuck in another universe, trying to find my way back. I just returned a few days ago. We're still getting used to each other again."   
  
Christina had picked out a couple of jumpers and was examining them critically, but looked up at Rose's words. "And now I've blundered into the middle of things," she said with a deliberately sympathetic smile.   
  
"Naw, don't worry about it. I think it probably helps to have someone else here; it gives him a distraction. The thing is, I've always thought I was special to him, but I've met other folks who've traveled with him, and they're special too. He's so old - hundreds of years old - and he's the last of his people. He gets so lonely sometimes, so he collects people to keep him company. Which helps, but then sooner or later they say goodbye, and he's all lonely again. He just left behind a particular friend, and it's still bothering him," said Rose.   
  
"But he still has you," said Christina.   
  
"That's part of the problem. He already said his goodbye to me. Burned out a sun to do it! I don't think he wants to go through that again. He even tried to set me up with another bloke so I could have a  _normal_  life, but I wasn't having anything to do with it. Probably selfish of me, but I just don't want to give up this life. So anything that makes it easier for him to have me here is good news in my books, and that includes you," said Rose, pulling out a blue blouse from a rack and holding it up to Christina.   
  
"This would look good on you," she said. "Brings out your eyes."   
  
Christina felt the fabric. "Nice. I think I'll try it on. Thank you."   
  
"My pleasure," said Rose, with a smile.   
  
As Christina went behind a dressing screen with several pieces of clothing, she thought about what Rose said. Clearly the girl wasn't going to be separated from the Doctor, but if she was telling the truth, she also wasn't going to stand in Christina's way. Christina felt a little sorry for Rose, worrying if the Doctor thought she was special.    
  
Not a problem that Christina ever had; she knew she was special, and she didn't need the Doctor to tell her that. She donned the blue blouse and some black pants, and then gathered Rose up to go track down the Doctor.


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor had just finished a final diagnostic check on the TARDIS engines when the sound of feminine laughter echoed from down the corridor. Rose and Christina arrived a moment later, both still laughing. He was surprised at how well they were getting along, and then was surprised that he was surprised. Why wouldn’t they get along? They were both brilliant. Still, you never knew when it came to humans. Sometimes their interactions made no sense at all.  
  
Rose turned and smiled at him, and his hearts froze. Speaking of making no sense. Her being back on the TARDIS caused him such simultaneous pleasure and pain that he just couldn’t sort it out. He’d missed her so much. If he hadn’t missed her so much, he wouldn’t have been so heedless, running towards her. Getting shot by the Dalek, and having the TARDIS captured and almost destroyed, being rendered so helpless in the face of Davros’s taunts — all that had cascaded from the fact he had missed her so much. He’d nearly lost everything. If not for Donna’s sacrifice, he would have.   
  
Now he had Rose back, but everything had changed.  _She_  had changed. There was a greater self-confidence, which suited her well, but also a hardness. She’d always been stubborn, of course; it was one of the things he lo. . . that he admired about her. Now Devros’s words echoed in his mind. She’d made herself into a weapon for him. What had she seen, as she strode from parallel world to parallel world searching for him? What had she done? She’d certainly handled the particle canon easily enough.  
  
At the same time, she was still his Rose. Joking with him, eating chips, showing kindness to a stranger. It was those glimpses that hurt the worst, because it reminded him of how it used to be. It reminded him of everything he’d lost.   
  
Rose’s smile started to fade and the Doctor realized he’d been staring blankly at her. He mentally shook himself and pulled out a smile from somewhere.  
  
“Ready for adventure then?” he said, turning to Christina. She’d changed clothes and was smelling rather strongly of pears. Unfortunate fragrance choice, but he was accustomed to filtering out objectionable human scents at need — his sense of smell was so much more developed than a human’s that he often reacted strongly to odors they thought pleasant. Not Rose’s, though. She never smelled of anything but. . .Rose Tyler.  
  
“I’m  _always_  ready for adventure,” Christina said with a grin, and his smile stretched to match it. Christina, at least, was an uncomplicated matter. A pure adrenalin junkie, and smart as a whip. Not quite trustworthy — she was too greedy for her own good — but handy in a crisis.   
  
“So, Rose, where do you think we should take the honorable Lady Christina? New Earth? Woman Wept? The Marketplace at Fralfix? Raxacoricofallapatorius?”  
  
Rose just stared at him a moment, and swallowed. Finally, she spoke. “Doctor, how many inhabitable planets are there in the universe?”  
  
“Actually, I’m not quite sure. It’s a big universe. More than nine billion,” he said, confused.  
  
“Then why would I want to take Christina to a planet that you and I’ve already visited?”  
  
“Oh, well. I just thought you’d like to help choose. . .but we could just hit the randomizer. How’s that sound?”  
  
She smiled. “Sounds brilliant.”  
  
“Randomizer?” asked Christina, breaking in.  
  
“Programs a random destination. Well, not totally random. It screens out the most deadly planets, the insides of stars, and all that empty space. And Sundays — I never land on a Sunday. But still, it’s pretty random,” explained the Doctor, powering up the randomizer, engaging the temporal boosters and cranking up the cross-current elipser.   
  
“In fact, would you like to do the honors, Lady Christina? All you need to do is flip that switch there,” he continued, and Christina hurried to comply, eyes shining with excitement.  
  
The TARDIS shook and the engines engaged. A few moments later, they slowed down again.   
  
“Well, that’s was a quick trip,” he said, looking at the monitor. “Ah, we’re still in the neighborhood. Rose, could you open the doors? But don’t step outside yet.”  
  
As Rose flung open the doors, the Doctor loudly proclaimed, “Behold, the Red Planet! Mars, fourth planet from Earth’s Sun, and the launching pad for the human’s ascent into the greater universe!”  
  
Both women made appreciative noises as they gazed out onto the alien landscape. The Doctor checked the date — wouldn’t do to have the humans step out into the middle of an Ice Warrior battle or anything. No, it was 2059, no worries about Ice Warriors. Except. . . it was November 21, 2059. The day that Bowie Base One was destroyed by a nuclear explosion. History would never know why. A fixed point in time; he couldn’t do anything to change it. Although it might be interesting to learn exactly what happened. . . no, no. Rose would want to do something. It would be Pompeii all over again.   
  
Well, what if it were Pompeii all over again? What if the timelines needed him to interfere to preserve the fixed point? He tested the Bowie Base One timeline; no, it was all clear of his presence. If he had/would have interfered, the timeline would be shadowed. He wouldn’t be able to see it so clearly.   
  
Rose looked back at him, concerned. “Is something wrong, Doctor?”  
  
He forced a smile. “Not really. We’re just a bit early; terraforming won’t start for another fifty years or so. Which unfortunately means we can’t look around much. I’ll extend the air shield of the TARDIS about a dozen feet out so you can walk outside, but we can’t do too much more than that.”  
  
“It’s still amazing,” said Rose, a few minutes later, bouncing her heels a bit and looking up at the clear sky. “I mean, we’re actually on Mars. Folks on Earth could be looking at us now, through a telescope.”  
  
Christina bent down to pick up a rust-colored rock, the size of her fist. “Wonder how much this would fetch at special auction?”  
  
“Christina,” said the Doctor warningly.   
  
“I’m just joking!” she said with a smile. He kept watching her until she slowly set the rock back down on the ground.  
  
Rose shivered. “It’s beautiful, but it sure is cold out here.”  
  
The Doctor had automatically adjusted his body temperature, but he realized that the air was below the normal human comfort zone. “The TARDIS is doing her best, but it takes a lot of energy to keep this much space heated.”  
  
Rose took one last look around and then headed back in. Christina trailed behind, and the Doctor decided not to notice when she causally bent and palmed a small rock from the surface.  
  
“Alright, then. Shall we continue the tour of your solar system, or do you want to go further out?” asked the Doctor once they were all inside.  
  
“Further out!” said Christina firmly. “Someplace where we can walk around, with aliens and excitement!”  
  
“Further out, aliens, and excitement. . .let’s see. . .”  
  
“And warm!” said Rose, rubbing her arms.  
  
“Further out, aliens, excitement and warmth. . .I know, let’s go to Rolinix! Major trading post at the edge of the Third Benevolent Human Empire. Lovely climate, lots of aliens, and most likely something exciting happening. I can also probably pick up some spare parts for the TARDIS.”  
  
Shortly thereafter, they landed on Rolinix, and the Doctor began happily expounding in depth on the history of the region. It was a neutral meeting ground for several races, and the humans who ran the place traded with them all. Above all, the human government valued the reputation of the planet as a safe place to do business. Enforcement of the laws was swift and certain.  
  
Which is why the slavers who kidnapped Rose immediately left the planet, planning to escape Rolinix justice.  Luckily the TARDIS had a copy of Rose’s biosignature — the remnants of energy from traveling through the Void and across dimensions was unmistakable — and was able to follow. They materialized on board the slaver’s ship, and the Doctor and Christina discovered where Rose and the other captives were held just before being discovered by the crew.

Caught up in lecturing the slave ship captain, the Doctor missed the fact that one of the underlings was headed for a control panel, where a switch would disintegrate everyone in the holding pen, leaving no evidence of their kidnapping.  Christina, however, spotted him immediately, and with a well-thrown rust-colored rock, knocked the man unconscious before he could flip the switch.   
  
When the Doctor realized what the switch would have done, he froze in place for a full count of ten, filled with terror and rage. Then he very, very calmly disabled all the weapons with his sonic screwdriver, and ordered the Captain and the crew to exchange places with their captives. Such was his expression that no one argued. When the exchange was completed, he stared at the switch on the panel for a long moment, before turning aside when Rose gently placed a hand on his arm. He piloted the ship back to Rolinix in silence, speaking only to appoint one of the braver captives as spokesman in delivering the slavers to justice. Then he led a very subdued Rose and Christina back to the TARDIS.  
  
No one said a word as he set the controls to launch them into the Time Vortex. Finally, Christina spoke up. “I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll head to bed.”  
  
“Good night, Christina,” said Rose softly. “And. . .thank you.”  
  
“Anytime.” Christina looked at the Doctor, but he kept staring into space, so she shrugged and left.  
  
“Doctor. . .” said Rose cautiously.  
  
“You just had to wander off,” he said.  
  
“There was a woman, she looked like she was in trouble. . .” began Rose.  
  
“But it was a trap. An obvious trap that you just had to walk into,” he said, his voice still very calm.  
  
“I’m fine, Doctor. You know me, jeopardy-friendly, but it always comes out alright,” she said.  
  
“Two seconds, Rose. I didn’t see it coming, I was so focused on that swinish Captain and what he was saying about you. Two seconds delay and you would’ve been gone.”  
  
“Doctor, I’m sorry. . .” she said, tears starting to come. He just stared past her, with no expression. For once, her tears couldn’t reach him. His hearts felt like they were in a block of ice. He’d been so angry, so close to losing his temper very badly. He just couldn’t let any emotion out right now.  
  
“Go to bed, Rose. We can talk in the morning.”  
  
He spent the night tinkering on the TARDIS, letting her song soothe him. By the time he heard Rose’s cautious footsteps approach, he felt more centered. Still angry, still scared, but the danger had passed.  
  
“Doctor?” she said, her voice shaky. He climbed out from under the console and looked at her and sighed.  
  
“Rose Tyler, what am I going to do with you?” he asked.  
  
She managed a watery smile. “A hug would be nice.”  
  
He held her tight, breathing in her scent. She was here, she was safe. Until the next time.  
  
“Good morning,” said Christina, entering the console room. The Doctor released Rose and greeted Christina with a smile.  
  
“And a very good morning to you, Lady Christina. I just realized that I may have forgotten to tell you that you were utterly and magnificently brilliant yesterday.”  
  
She gave him a crooked smile. “That’s quite alright, Doctor. I already knew. So what wonders of the universe are you two going to show me today?”  
  
“Ah well, I think it’s time for a break from the wonders of the universe. Today we’re off to Cardiff.”  
  
“Cardiff,” she said blankly. “You mean in Wales?”  
  
“Yep,” he said. “We need to refuel, and Cardiff is the home of a space/time rift that produces just the right energy to power the TARDIS.”  
  
“Could we. . .would we have time to visit Jack?’ asked Rose wistfully.  
  
Her voice made the Doctor’s hearts ache. Not that he was jealous of Jack; they’d all gotten past that long ago. But Rose sounded so much in need of a friend, and so timorous about asking him for time to visit. It felt all wrong.  
  
“Of course we have time; in case you haven’t noticed, Rose Tyler, we’re in a time machine,” he said, and was relieved to see her smile happily.  
  
But when they exited the TARDIS onto the Plass, there was no sign of Jack Harkness. The Doctor was nonplused. Torchwood Three was around here somewhere, but the Doctor didn’t actually know how to reach it. But surely if Jack was at Torchwood, he’d have come out by now.  
  
“He must be off on assignment. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon, though. Maybe we could have a look around, see the sights, and then check back in a few hours.”  
  
“I’ve heard that the National Museum in Cardiff has a very nice bronze age exhibit,” said Christina, with a smile.  
  
“Christina. . .” said the Doctor.  
  
“Just to look at, Doctor. Really,” she said, perhaps a little too innocently.  
  
“You two go ahead,” said Rose. “I think I’ll just go for a walk by the water.”  
  
The Doctor frowned. “I’m not sure. . .”  
  
Rose frowned back. “You know how you love a good museum, Doctor.”  
  
He sighed. “Okay. But no wandering off!”  
  
“I’ll be careful. I promise,” she said, giving him a quick hug.  
  
As he and Christina exited the Plass, it occurred to him that Rose hadn’t actually promised to stay put.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor was alone in the Hub when the TARDIS materialized on the Plass. Jack and Ianto were investigating reports of a mummy, and Gwen was on a much-delayed holiday with Rhys. They’d left the Doctor behind to mind the Rift monitor and happily sort through alien artifacts. Luckily the Jiridian communications unit he was examining wasn’t particularly breakable. As the TARDIS’s song filled his mind, his hand opened and the alien com unit tumbled to the ground.  
  
Oh, he thought he’d gotten used to her absence, but he was wrong. Turning numb was not the same thing as getting used to something, and now that she was back, he felt himself waking up. Her song was a welcoming one; she was happy he was there. Sifting through the undermelody, he gathered that all was not well aboard the TARDIS. He blinked back tears — annoying human biology — and hurried to a monitor to check out the CCTV feed from the Plass.  
  
There he was, the Time Lord Doctor in all his glory, exiting the TARDIS. Found a himself new coat it seemed. The Doctor smirked — still not as nice as the one he’d managed to walk away with. The Time Lord Doctor looked around, as if searching for a welcoming committee. Ah, and there was Rose. She seemed. . . smaller. Like she was hunched down or something. The Doctor frowned. He didn’t like the looks of that at all. Then a third figure emerged from the TARDIS, and the Doctor’s frowned deepened. Some sort of Lara Croft wannabe, striding past Rose and onto the Plass like she owned it. What the hell was the other Doctor playing at? That man was just begging for a slap. . .   
  
The Doctor sighed. Donna’s voice again. Always came out when he got emotional. Very useful at times, but he was still working on controlling it. He tamped down his outrage and watched the scene unfold. The trio just looked around for a bit, and then spoke briefly. The Doctor accepted a hug from Rose, and then he and his new dolly-mop — er, companion — walked away, leaving Rose behind.  
  
Well, wasn’t this interesting. The Doctor struggled with his conscience for about half a second as he was walking to grab his coat off the rack. He wasn’t supposed to leave the Hub empty, except in case of emergency. But he was sure Jack would understand that this  _was_  a sort of emergency. He headed for the lift, and then turned towards Jack’s office, where he wrote a quick note and stuck it in the right hand drawer of Jack’s desk. Just in case.  
  
He resisted the urge to sonic the lift — it moved fast enough as it was. When he reached the surface he stood a moment, concealed behind the perception filter, watching Rose walk slowly across the Plass toward the Water Tower. The TARDIS’s song lifted his hearts — his heart, rather — and with a deep breath he stepped forward. Rose remained lost in thought and didn’t notice his approach. Despite her pensive expression she looked lovely, not much changed from when he saw her last. It had been a year and a half for him. How long for her? Regardless of circumstances, it was good to see her again.  
  
“Hullo,” he said.  
  
She looked up and her face lit with joy, and he found himself grinning too. Oh, yes, this was the Rose he remembered, all pink and yellow and full of life. Then her expression shifted as she looked at him carefully, joy fading into disappointment.  
  
“Oh, you’re the other one,” she said.  
  
He froze, trying to ignore the knife in his gut. Not her fault, not his fault. He kept his expression calm and friendly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disappoint you. Yes, I’m the other Doctor. ”  
  
He remembered two men doomed to die in The Library. Proper Dave and Other Dave. No question who was the Proper Doctor. Which made him the Other Doctor. There were worse things to be.  
  
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to see you, really I am. It’s just that you looked so happy. He hasn’t looked that happy since. . .well, since he healed himself from the Dalek blast and sent the extra energy into. . .”  
  
“Into my hand,” he said, holding up his right hand and wiggling his fingers.  
  
“Love the hand,” she said with a smile. It was a proper Rose Tyler smile, and suddenly everything was alright. Really alright. He reached out his hand, and she took it in hers, and they started walking in step.  
  
“So, what brings you to Cardiff, Doctor? I thought you were going to stay at Sarah Jane’s.”  
  
“Oh, I did. Camped out in her guest room for five months while I got the hang of this whole being human thing. It was a bit rough at first; Sarah Jane deserves a medal for putting up with me. For that matter, you all deserve medals for putting up with me. Anyway, once I got past all the moping and feeling sorry for myself, I decided it was time to do something productive with my time. Jack needed the help, so I joined Torchwood. Just in time to help save the Earth, as a matter of fact,” he said proudly. He might not be the Proper Doctor, but there were millions of children safe at home today, thanks in part to him.  
  
She laughed. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all. So what’s it like, being human? For you, I mean.”  
  
He sighed. “Well, the one heart’s really the least of it. I still have trouble sometimes with wasting all this time sleeping; four or five, sometimes six, hours every night! And eating two or three times every day. Then there are the really odd things, like having to keep my nails and hair trimmed. And don’t let me get started about what it feels like to get sick! The sneezing part’s rather fun, but everything else is just a misery.”  
  
She was trying hard to look sympathetic, he could tell, but laughter was fighting its way out.   
  
“On the plus side,” he said casually, “the sex is just fantastic.”   
  
She stopped walking and turned to stare at him in shock. He grinned at her, and then she burst out laughing, a great wonderful belly laugh. He laughed too, just from the joy of seeing her happy. She let go of his hand so she could wipe the tears of laughter away, but that was okay, because she was still smiling up at him. In the back of his mind, he could hear the TARDIS as well, echoing Rose’s joy. Their walk around the Plass had brought them back near the TARDIS, and he could feel the deep thrum as she absorbed energy from the Rift.  
  
“Really, Doctor, I can’t believe. . .who have you been having sex with?”  
  
“Now Rose,” he said mock sternly, “do I look like the sort of man who’d kiss and tell?”  
  
“How would I know? You don’t look like the sort of man who’d kiss at all!”  
  
He smiled smugly. “New, new,  _new_  Doctor.”  
  
Oh, and there it was, that little flirt of a tongue in the corner of her mouth as she smiled. Even as a Time Lord, he found it distracting. Now his new human biology was rather insisting he find out exactly what that little tongue could do. He reasserted control reprovingly.   
  
“Anyway, all in all, things have been good. The only  _really_  hard part has been missing the TARDIS,” he said, looking sadly at the blue box. Her expression sobered, and she put a comforting hand on his arm.  
  
“Which was why I was thinking of going inside for a little visit,” he added nonchalantly.  
  
Her hand tightened in warning. “Doctor. . .I can’t let you into the TARDIS. You’ll have to wait until he gets back.”  
  
“Oh, of course I wouldn’t ask you to let me in, Rose,” he said, gently removing her hand and sauntering up to the TARDIS doors. “I figured I’d leave it up to her to decide if I should go in.”  
  
He lifted his hand — his right hand — and snapped his fingers. The TARDIS door creaked open. Brilliant. He walked inside and strode up to the console, letting his fingers trail over the controls. He sent a mental query to the TARDIS and she sent a laughing response. Oh yes, this felt very good. Her engines were all charged up and she was feeling energized. Without really thinking about it, he disengaged the power feed and set the temporal boosters.  
  
“Doctor, what are you doing?” said Rose. She’d followed him inside.  
  
“Oh, just saying hello to the TARDIS. You know, I believe she’d let me fly her?”  
  
“You can’t. I can’t let you steal the TARDIS,” Rose said firmly.  
  
“No, no. I wouldn’t steal her. Leave the proper Doctor stranded on Earth? That would be wrong,” he said, cranking up the cross-current elipser. “But would it be so bad for me to borrow her? Just one trip? Time machine, you know. I’d have her back in five minutes. He’d never even know she was gone.”  
  
A lie, a blatant lie. He would know.  
  
Rose crossed her arms, looking stern. “It would still be wrong.”  
  
The Doctor looked at her and deflated. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”   
  
The stared at one another, and then he saw her lips twitch, just a bit. Hope blossomed and he smiled shyly. Her eyes brightened and suddenly she was laughing, and he was laughing. The door to the TARDIS banged shut by itself and that was sign enough for him. He engaged the time rotor and held on tight.  
  
“Allons-y!”


	5. Chapter 5

Jack and Ianto followed closely behind Harold Reynolds, chief archeologist of the National Museum, as he led the way past the “No Admittance” signs and down a set of stairs into the basement laboratory, where a mummy had reportedly come to life and killed his assistant.   
  
“We thought it was a practical joke, or a hoax. It was found at a Bell Beaker dig site a few weeks ago, and of course it’s all wrong for the time period and location,” Reynolds explained.   
  
“What’s a Bell Beaker site?” asked Ianto.   
  
Jack responded. “Late-Neolithic western European culture, named after the pottery vessels found at the sites. It was started by a group of temporal refugees from the forty-eighth century, who integrated into Earth’s pre-history.”   
  
Reynolds stopped short. “That’s absurd!”   
  
“Actually, makes perfect sense. Why else would advanced pottery, metal-working and agricultural techniques all suddenly appear in the archeological record? Not to mention the tall, heavy-boned skeletons found among in populations of an entirely different physical type. The refugees didn’t bring any modern technology with them, but they still had advanced knowledge, and put it to good use. The Time Agency investigated, but the paradox was already too entangled in human history, so we let them be.”    
  
“What it doesn’t explain,” continued Jack, nudging the stunned archeologist along, “Is a homicidal mummy. What exactly happened, Dr. Reynolds?”   
  
They’d walked through the door at the bottom of the stairs and down an institutional corridor. A nervous-looking museum security guard stood in front of a metal door.

  
“It happened in there,” said Reynolds, indicating the door. “I was in the next room, operating the accelerated mass spectrometer, when I heard screaming. I ran to see what the matter was, but it was too late. Poor Martin was dead, with a broken neck, with the mummy standing over him. I slammed the door shut and locked it, and called security. We decided to leave the room alone and called the police. And they sent you.”   
  
“Has there been any sound from the room since?” Jack asked the security guard. David Williams, according to his security badge. Probably a local boy.   
  
“No sir, not a peep,” he answered softly. Definitely a local boy.   
  
“And the accelerated mass spectrometer, how does it work?” Jack asked Reynolds.   
  
“Well, we use it for radiocarbon dating. It accelerates ions to a high kinetic state, allowing us to separate isotropes. We can calculate the age of any organic matter based on the portion of C-14 present,” said Reynolds, lapsing automatically into lecture mode.   
  
“And is it turned off, now?” asked Jack.   
  
“Yes, I assume so. I must’ve shut it down before I ran to see what the scream was,” said Reynolds, frowning in concentration.   
  
“Let’s go check,” said Jack.   
  
A quick look next door confirmed that the huge machine was indeed powered off. Jack noted that the particle accelerator ran along the wall shared with the room where the mummy was.    
  
“How long was the mummy here before it started moving? Had you run the spectrometer before, while it was here?”   
  
“The mummy arrived from the site yesterday. And no, we haven’t run the spectrometer. Other institutions use it on occasion, medical researchers and universities, but no one was scheduled to do so yesterday. Do you really think that it’s related?” he asked.   
  
“It’s a working theory. Need more information before confirming. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Dr. Reynolds, you open the door and  _immediately_  step out of the way. Ianto will cover me as I confront the mummy,” Jack said, looking at Ianto, who nodded.   
  
“Mr. Williams,” he continued, addressing the guard, “You stay in the hallway with Dr. Reynolds. If it looks like there’s trouble, get him upstairs, and evacuate the building. You can say it’s a bomb scare. Is the stairway the only way out of the basement? Good. If worse come to worst, barricade the stair entrance and call this number,” Jack said, handing the guard a card with the Hub’s main number. Not much the Doctor could do on his own from the Hub, but he could coordinate with UNIT if need be.   
  
“Everyone got that?” Jack looked at each man in the eye in turn, and everyone nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”   
  
Reynolds pulled out a key and unlocked the door and flung it open, scurrying out of the way. Ianto, gun drawn, entered first and immediately moved beside the door, and Jack walked in.   
  
Sure enough, there was a mummy standing in the middle of the room, with the body of a young man in a lab coat at its feet. Jack started at it for half a minute, but it made no moves. He walked closer, and when it stayed immobile, he spoke up.   
  
“This Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood, representing Earth. Species designation and planet of origin, please.” He may as well do this by the book. There was no response.   
  
He stepped a little closer, and heard Ianto slide forward, keeping his line of sight open. “Respond. What is your mission? Why are you on Earth?”   
  
When it failed to answer, Jack moved within arms length, and reached out to give the mummy a gentle shove. The mummy rocked back, teetered a moment, and then crashed to the floor with a thud.   
  
Ianto moved forward, gun still carefully trained on the fallen bandage-wrapped figure. “Well that was a little anti-climatic.”   
  
“Don’t jinx us. Let’s see exactly what we have here,” said Jack, kneeling down beside the mummy. He found the end of a bandage near where he’d expect an ear to be, and carefully began unwrapping it.   
  
To his annoyance, voices echoed from the corridor. He didn’t catch the first part, but the Doctor’s voice was quite distinctive.   
  
“Yes, well, we are authorized personnel. See, here’s our identification. Now step aside, please.”   
  
Jack twisted his head to look at the doorway. “Dammit, Doctor, you were supposed to wait at the Hub!”   
  
But the Doctor ignored him. Instead, he stared at the fallen mummy with alarm, pulled out his sonic screwdriver and activated it.    
  
Jack had just enough time to register that the sonic looked different — the light was green instead of blue — before he was grabbed by the neck. His pulled at the bandaged hand that was squeezing so tight, but it wouldn’t budge. He heard Ianto’s shout and the sound of gunshots, and felt the familiar white hot pain of a snapped neck. Then darkness.   
  
When he revived with a gasp, Ianto was beside him, holding his hand. So the immediate crisis must’ve passed. He sat up and looked around. The Doctor was still there, with an attractive young lady standing behind and to the side of him.   
  
“What happened?”   
  
“It was an Osirian service robot,” said the Doctor. “Safe now, I removed its power source.” He indicated a small silver pyramid, sitting on a nearby table.    
  
“After first activating it with the sonic,” muttered Ianto.   
  
“Yeah, sorry about that,” said the Doctor, looking a bit shamefaced. “I thought that one of the Osirian’s had somehow returned and was scanning for their signal. The sonic waves must’ve triggered the robot.”   
  
Jack stood up and examined the pyramid. “Is this a cytronic particle accelerator?”   
  
“Yup. Ionic excitation from the accelerated mass spectrometer next door must’ve charged it up,” said the Doctor.   
  
“I figured that had something to do with the attack,” said Jack. Someone — probably Ianto - had draped a sheet over the body of the lab assistant.    
  
“So young Mr. Jones indicated,” said the Doctor.   
  
“Is this it, then? One rogue robot, and no worries about its creators?” asked Jack.   
  
“I think so. The Osirians should’ve all died out a long time ago. I took care of the last of them myself. Well, with Sarah Jane’s help. But just in case, I can double-check for their influence from the TARDIS.”   
  
At the mention of the TARDIS, Jack blinked in confusion, and then finally put two and two together. Dying always slowed his thoughts down for a while.   
  
“Ah, of course. You’re the Time Lord Doctor. Welcome back to Cardiff. Would you introduce me to your lovely companion?” he asked, smiling at the young lady who’d been watching everything with interest.   
  
She was a new one; Jack wondered how far along the Doctor’s personal timeline she was. She was attractive, of course, like every companion of the Doctor he’d ever met. Jack assumed the Doctor chose them for purely aesthetic reasons, since as far as he could tell the Doctor never  _actively_  appreciated them, not even Rose.   
  
But this one was especially beautiful. Tall and confident looking, with silky black hair, bright blue eyes, and a determined jaw.   
  
“Captain Jack Harkness, may I present you to Lady Christina de Souza,” said the Doctor, with a trace of irony in his voice.   
  
Ooh, a lady. Jack dusted off his best court manners and bent over her hand, barely brushing it with his lips. “Pleased to meet you, my lady.”   
  
“Likewise, Captain. But please, call me Christina. Weren’t you dead a minute ago?”   
  
“Call me Jack. I’m a quick healer,” he said with a grin, keeping hold of her hand.   
  
He could feel Ianto’s eyes on them and stifled a sigh. Surely by now Ianto had learned not to be threatened by a little flirting? Especially with one of the Doctor’s companions. Although interestingly enough, the Doctor had not warned him off, yet.   
  
But Ianto was certainly staring intently. “Were you two separated at birth by any chance?” he asked.   
  
Startled, Jack looked at Christina’s eyes again. They did look very familiar. . .de Souza, de Souza. Oh. . .   
  
Jack opened his grip, freeing Christina’s hand. “Is your mother by any chance Claire de Souza? Physicist who did some consulting work with the U.N., back in the eighties?”   
  
“Yes, she is,” answered Christina. “Why do you ask?”   
  
Jack did some rapid mental calculations, back to a wonderful three-week stay in Geneva. “Ah, I believe she was good friends with my father. I think that there may have been some sort of family relation.”    
  
There had certainly been relations, and he was guessing that the family part was staring at him, bright-eyed, right now. If so, Claire had never told him. Well, he supposed he could understand that, given that Baron de Souza was still in the picture. He’d have to check the records when they got back to the Hub. Perhaps the Doctor had known all along?   
  
The Doctor’s raised eyebrows and flabbergasted expression made that unlikely. Ianto’s expression was perfectly blank, and only someone who knew him very well could detect the utter glee he was experiencing at this situation. This time Jack did sigh.   
  
“Alright, clean up time. Ianto, could you follow up with Dr. Reynolds and the guard? The lab assistant’s death was an unfortunately freak accident. They can help move the alien tech to the van first, though.” Before the retcon, but Ianto would understand that.   
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
“Doctor, Christina — are you parked at the Plass? I can give you a ride back. And you’re welcome to visit the Hub, of course.” Although it might be a bit awkward, with the human Doctor there.   
  
“Yes, that would be good. We have to catch up Rose first, though. She definitely wants to see you,” said the Doctor.   
  
“Rose?!” said Jack. “Rose is with you? How long has it been for you, since we moved the Earth?”    
  
And what the heck was the Doctor doing, being separated from Rose? Jack had assumed that the Doctor must be far along in his personal timeline, to not have Rose by his side. He hadn’t really wanted to know the details.   
  
“Ah, it’s only been a few days for me,” said the Doctor, suddenly looking very tired.   
  
Which made even less sense. Why would the Doctor pick up another companion right after being reunited with Rose?   
  
“Did she go somewhere in particular?” Maybe she was looking up Mickey or something.   
  
“No, she should still be somewhere near the TARDIS,” said the Doctor, tilting his head as if listening for a far-off sound. He frowned, and then looked alarmed.   
  
“What? What?! Oh no. No, no, no, no, NO!” the Doctor shouted. He launched himself at the door, and then took off running down the hall.   
  
Christina started to follow, but Jack grabbed her hand. “It’s okay, I know where he’s going. We can follow in the car. Let me check something first, though.”   
  
He activated his com unit and called the Hub. “Doctor, are you there? Doctor, pick up now.” No response. Not that he was expecting one.   
  
“Alright, Ianto. I’ll meet you back at the Hub. Come on, Christina. Let’s go to the Plass. We’ll find the Doctor, and then I’ll show you where I work.”   
  
Jack was pretty sure he knew what they’d find waiting for them there. Or rather, what they would find  _not_  waiting there.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose and the Doctor stumbled into the TARDIS, laughing so hard they had to hold on to each other to stay up. She nearly tripped over the long skirt of her Victorian dress, and then gave up on staying upright, sinking down to the console room floor. The Doctor plopped down beside her.   
  
“Seriously, Doctor, you’re completely mad. I mean, confronting a giant Cyberman from a hot air balloon? Can’t you just have a proper Christmas?” she said, giggling.   
  
“Oi! Who just sat all the way through a Christmas dinner with you — for the second time, mind you! By my count, that’s two proper Christmases,” said the Doctor indignantly.   
  
“Oh, you had a great time. Can’t fool me. Jackson Lake was certainly something else, wasn’t he? Think he’ll be alright?” she asked.   
  
“I think so. He’s got Frederick back now, and that’ll help ground him. We made a strange pair, though, didn’t we? Two humans with delusions of being the Doctor.”    
  
“Except you really are the Doctor,” she said.   
  
“Am I, Rose?” he asked. It could’ve sounded bitter, but it wasn’t. More like he really was curious about what her answer would be.   
  
She thought back to that day, the second time she had stood on the Norwegian beach. “Yeah, you are. He was wrong about you. You’re not too dangerous, or full of blood and anger and revenge.”   
  
He sighed. “He was and he wasn’t. I am dangerous — we both are. We both have a terrible anger underneath it all. He’s got his Time Lord discipline to keep it in check. He was worried that my puny human control wouldn’t be enough by itself, especially after I destroyed the Daleks.”   
  
“Yeah, well, I destroyed the Daleks, too. He didn’t — you didn’t — think I was too dangerous after that,” said Rose.    
  
“You destroyed the Daleks out of love,” said the Doctor. She felt a shiver at how easily he said that word, but he didn’t seem to notice. “And he thought I destroyed them out of hate. But he was wrong about that. I stopped the Daleks because it would save innocent lives, and there was no other choice. And it’s still not something I regret.”   
  
“Well, good, because I agree with you,” she said.   
  
“The proper Doctor doesn’t really understand humans as well as he thinks. It’s different for me now, being on the inside. I am probably more likely to take violent action than he is, but I’m also more able to stop myself, once I step over that line. If he ever got pushed that far. . . I’m not sure he could stop at all. Which is why he’s so careful never to walk there.”    
  
Rose swallowed. “He almost lost his temper, the last trip we took. I got myself captured by slavers, and they held us in a chamber where they could just push a button and we’d all disintegrate — remove all the evidence. The Doctor rescued me, I didn’t even have a scratch, but afterwards he put all the slavers in that chamber, and I swear he was so close to pushing that button. . .”   
  
The Doctor put his arm around her shoulders. “He loves you, Rose. Might not ever say it, but does it really need saying?”   
  
“I suppose you’re saying it for him,” she said.   
  
He smiled at her. “Well, for us both.”   
  
“But love’s not enough, is it? That’s what he was trying to tell me, on that damn beach. Loving me makes it harder for him. Especially after what happened with Donna.”   
  
“He wants you safe and happy,” he said.   
  
“Except I’m not happy being safe,” she said with a rueful smile. “And how ‘bout you, Doctor? Why aren’t you trying to wrap me in cotton wool and tuck me away somewhere?”    
  
“I think it’s this human lifespan. Only have so much time left, so I’m going to enjoy each minute and not worry too much about the future,” he said. She was suddenly very aware of his arm, still around her.   
  
“The new, new,  _new_  Doctor,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “So, about this fantastic sex you mentioned before. . .”   
  
His eyes lit up. “Yes?”   
  
“Was it. . .was there anyone serious?” she asked shyly.   
  
His expression sobered, but his eyes stayed happy. “Depends on what you mean by serious. No commitments were made, certainly. And. . .it wasn’t you. Rose Tyler.”   
  
She loved the way he said her name. She loved the way she felt, snuggled up to him, his arm around her, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. She love the way he was studying her face, her lips. . .   
  
She loved him. This him. Well, both of him, but this was the one who was holding her.   
  
“So,” she said, gathering her courage. She knew she was the one who needed to make the next move here, after having rejected him before.   
  
“So?” he asked.   
  
“So how is it different, then? As a human. Sex, I mean. Or. . .do Time Lords even have sex?”    
  
He cleared his throat. “Well, they can. Not many do. Did. We, or rather they, didn’t need it to reproduce, and hadn’t for a very long time. So the Time Lords lost the biological imperative. No involuntary sexual responses. Which takes a lot of the fun out of things.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
He smiled. “Well, take right now. I’m sitting here, next to Rose Tyler, talking about sex. Which is making my heart pound. See?” He took her hand and tucked it under his coat and jacket, placing it over his heart. She could feel it beating under the thin fabric of his shirt, and her heart sped up, too.   
  
“I didn’t tell it to do that, it just did it by itself. Which wouldn’t have happened if I were a Time Lord. I could’ve made my hearts beat faster, but they wouldn’t have done it on their own,” he said, his voice growing hoarse.   
  
“Oh, I think I see. . .” she said, shivering with her own involuntary reaction.   
  
“Yes, and of course that’s just the beginning. Because now my body is starting a series of biochemical reactions that’s flooded my brain and body with hormones and pheromones and endorphins which are making it very hard to think clearly. Or rather, I am thinking very clearly but all my thoughts are about your lips and your skin and your scent. . .”   
  
She reached up to pull his head forward, bringing his lips to hers. A feather-light kiss at first, and then she ran the tip of her tongue along his top lip, and he groaned, deepening the kiss, meeting her tongue with his own. She lost herself in the feel of him, the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hand, now cupping her face. Then he pulled back. . .   
  
“And that sound, I didn’t mean to make that groaning sound, it just came out. . .” he gasped.   
  
“Doctor, I think that’s enough lecture for now. I’d like a practical demonstration, please.”   
  
“Oh yes. . .” he said, diving in for another kiss.   
  
She realized they were still on the console room floor, in entirely too many clothes. Now it was her turn to pull back, just far enough to whisper a word.   
  
“Bedroom.”   
  
“Oh yes!” he said, helping her stand up, and then sweeping her into his arms, the long skirt of her Victorian dress swinging across his arm. He carried her to the corridor and opened the first door they came to, which turned out to be her new bedroom. She sent a silent thank you to the TARDIS, and thought she felt an amused acknowledgement in return.   
  
He lay her down on the bed and, while never taking his eyes off her, tossed away his coat, and then his suit jacket, and then his tie. He toed off his shoes, and then rolled up his shirt sleeves, reminding her for a bizarre moment of how he looked when he was planning on tackling a particularly interesting modification to the TARDIS. She giggled.   
  
He plopped down on the bed beside her, stretched out, so they were lying face-to-face. He lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.   
  
“Sorry. You just looked very intent.”   
  
He smiled, a smile she’d never seen on him before, and her insides twisted up, and all thought of laughter fled. “Yes, Rose, I am very intent.”   
  
He kissed her again, drinking her in, and then nuzzled at her ear.   
  
“Rose Tyler, I love you. I love you so much.”   
  
Tears sprang from her eyes and something inside went ping, like a lock breaking. Happiness filled her like a light.   
  
“Quite right, too,” she said, with a grin.   
  
He growled deep in his chest and kissed her, deeply. And then left her gasping as he scooted down by her feet. He slipped off her shoes and then reached under her long skirt to roll off her stockings.   
  
“Did you know,” he said, sitting on the bed with one of her bare feet in his hand, “That you have truly lovely feet.” He ran a finger lightly along the sole, and she jumped.   
  
“Doctor, it’s not my feet needing attention right now,” she said.   
  
“Oh, believe you me, I’m planning on paying attention to every square inch of you, Rose Tyler. Starting with your feet.”   
  
His long tongue trailed up her foot, and then he drew her big toe into his mouth. Oh my. She’d never felt anything so, so, wicked. The Doctor’s tongue felt marvelous, moving across her foot and ankle and calf. She felt like she was melting into the bed, and finally she just arched back and gave into the sensation of his lips and tongue and hands. At some point her clothes were gone and his hands were on her skin, they were everywhere, turning her inside out, making her call his name.   
  
“Doctor, please, I need you,” she gasped. He was still wearing clothes, not fair. She wanted him naked, she needed to touch him, she had to see him. She grabbed at his shirt, pulling hard, ripping off some buttons. He was breathing hard as he removed the rest of his clothes and oh, he was beautiful.   
  
Her Doctor. Her eyes drank him in, and then she pulled him down to her, on top of her, and her legs were around him and they were joined, their bodies moving together, dancing, faster and faster. She watched him, watched his face as his eyes squeezed closed, and suddenly there was singing, she knew that sound. She remembered a golden light and a kiss and singing. The Doctor was calling her name and she was screaming his, she could see everything, it was so beautiful, so very beautiful.   
  
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but they caught their breaths and the Doctor snuggled up behind her, his arm across her waist. He pulled the covers over them and nuzzled at her neck.   
  
“Doctor — what happened there, at the end? Did the TARDIS join in?” she said, shyly.   
  
He chuckled. “Not exactly, not the way you mean. I just lost a bit of control for a moment, of my thoughts, and you felt my link to the TARDIS.”   
  
“It was beautiful. Her singing was beautiful,” she said sleepily.   
  
“Yes, she’s very happy that we’re happy.”.   
  
“Mmm, happy,” she said, snuggling closer.   
  
“Rose?” asked the Doctor tentatively.   
  
“Mmm?”   
  
“I’m afraid my body is rather insisting on sleep right now. Do you mind if I sleep in your bed?”   
  
She rolled over to look at him. He was serious. “Of course not, Doctor. In fact, I’d be offended if you slept anywhere else. You’re welcome to sleep in my bed anytime.”   
  
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I like the sound of that,” he said. “Good night, Rose.”   
  
“Good night, Doctor.” As her eyes fluttered closed, it occurred to her that he wouldn’t be sleeping in  _this_  bed again, since they were going to return the TARDIS to the other Doctor tomorrow. But that was something to worry about in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

When Ianto entered Jack’s office with a mug of fresh coffee, his boss was writing something in the margins of an old-fashioned scrapbook. Ianto recognized a color picture of Christina de Souza, probably captured from one of the internal cameras. On the facing page were pictures of Jack, Alice and Steven that Ianto remembered taking on Steven’s birthday, a few weeks after the mess with the 456 had been sorted out.   
  
Ianto couldn’t help notice that the scrapbook was three-quarters filled. But Jack closed the book without comment and locked it away in his floor safe. Not hiding it from Ianto, but not inviting conversation either. Ianto waited until he was done before placing the coffee on Jack’s desk.  
  
“Ah, thank you.” Jack took an appreciative sip. “So, how’s he doing?”   
  
“The same,” said Ianto. “He hasn’t touched his tea, and he’s watching the CCTV recording again.”  
  
Ianto had already made his own copy of the recording to watch again at home, with a big bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. It was so beautifully executed, like a classic silent film. Rose trudges across the Plass, looking abandoned and totally dejected. The Doctor suddenly appears from the shadow of the perception filter. Rose’s initial joy is followed by apprehension. The Doctor’s suavely reassures her, melting her reserve, and then the two of them walk hand in hand like children, both looking perfectly happy. A joke is followed by roaring laughter.  
  
Then Ianto’s favorite part, where the Doctor swaggers up to the TARDIS, clicks his fingers with a grin and then ducks inside. Rose hesitates a moment, then follows him in. Minutes later, the door slams shut and the TARDIS disappears. Fast forward fifteen minutes, and the other Doctor arrives at a run, far too late.  
  
Too bad that there’s no one around to watch it with that would properly appreciate it. Maybe Ianto could look up Mickey Smith sometime and invite him over for a pint.  
  
Jack sighed. “Well, leave him alone for now. He’ll snap out of it sooner or later. How’s Christina doing?”  
  
“Getting restless. I gave her the full tour. She was less than impressed with the vaults — a bit mucky for her, I think — but she liked the archives. She has an eye for shiny things.” Ianto allowed just the barest hint of warning into his voice.  
  
Jack chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me at all.”  
  
“Is she really your daughter?” Ianto asked cautiously.  
  
“Yeah, DNA confirmed. Not that I really doubted it.”  
  
Ianto wasn’t surprised. He knew what Jack was up to as soon as his boss collected the morning’s mugs for washing up. Jack never did the washing up.  
  
“Are you going to tell her?”  
  
“It’s not really my place to, if her mother chose to keep silent. And it’s hard to explain even in the best of cases,” said Jack, obviously thinking of Alice.  
  
Ianto placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder, and Jack patted it gently in thanks. Ianto was wondering whether to leave his boss in peace when Jack cleared his throat.  
  
“I found a note in my desk drawer. From the Doctor — our Doctor. I think he’d want you to read it.” He pulled it out and handed it to Ianto.  
  
_Dear Jack — If you’re reading this, I’ve gone and done something either stupid or brilliant or both. I’m sorry for leaving you, again. It’s just that, well, there’s no explanation except for the one you already know without me telling you. You’re a brilliant friend and I don’t deserve you._  
  
Please take good care of Ianto. He was an anchor for me on some of my darkest days as a human. Help him see just how wonderful he is. With love,   
  
At the end of the note was a strange symbol, a decorated circle.   
  
“He’s not coming back, is he?” said Ianto softly.  
  
Jack stood up and gave him a hug. “I don’t know, Yan. Maybe not.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was approaching dinner time when Christina entered the main room of the Hub and announced she was leaving. The Doctor was brooding on the couch, Jack was checking the rift monitor and Ianto was cleaning the coffee machine.  
  
The Doctor spoke first. “You’re leaving?”  
  
“Sorry, Doctor, but I signed up for adventures amongst the stars, not moss gathering in a dank hole in the ground in Cardiff. I’ve arranged for a private plane trip to Europe. Care to come with me? I’m sure Jack will let you know when your blue box returns.”  
  
But the Doctor was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. “No, I’ll stay here and wait for my property to be returned.”  
  
“Hmm, but you said that  _you_  stole it in the first place. So is it really your property?” she asked lightly.  
  
The Time Lord gave her a glare that made even Ianto take pause, although Christina seemed unfazed. Ianto caught Jack’s eye and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Jack gave an infinitesimal shrug — he’d never heard this story  
  
“That was a long time ago. It’s mine now,” said the Doctor, staring past her.  
  
“Well you know what they say about possession. . .Anyway, good luck, Doctor. Thanks for everything,” She turned away quickly enough that she didn’t have to acknowledge his lack of response.  
  
Ianto grimaced at the Time Lord’s rudeness. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Christina. Safe travels to you. Can we offer you a ride to the airport?”   
  
“No, I can arrange transport. Thanks for the tour, Ianto. It was very educational.” He offered his hand, but she stepped close to give him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
Ianto smiled and moved back as Jack approached. “Christina, it was a delight to meet you. If you are ever back in Cardiff, please don’t hesitate to call,” he said, pulling out a card from his pocket. “In fact, if you are ever in trouble -  _any_  sort of trouble, anywhere - you can give me a call. Chances are I’d be able to help.”  
  
She took the card cautiously. “Thank you, Captain. But why would you do that? We just met.”  
  
“Consider it a family obligation. And give my regards to your mother.” He pulled her into a hug, and then kissed her cheek.  
  
As she shouldered her backpack, he spoke up again. “Oh, one more thing. You can keep the Deluvian crystal, but the Zarcosigan field generator and the Jocastan sensor array stay here. They’re too dangerous to let out of Torchwood.”  
  
Christina laughed, showing not an ounce of shame at being caught out. Jack removed the stolen tech from her bag, and then walked her out the tourist entrance. Ianto figured they’d be gone a while. Jack would probably convince her to stop for a drink, so he could retcon her. Not a full retcon, but just enough to blur the details of the Hub security.  
  
Ianto stood in front of the Time Lord on the couch, and waited solicitously, with arms behind his back, leaning forward slightly.  
  
After a few minutes, the Doctor focused on him.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I was wondering, sir, since you’re planning to stay in Cardiff indefinitely, if you’d like help finding a place to live,” said Ianto in his most exquisitely polite tones.  
  
The Doctor huffed without amusement and looked around the Hub. “Not very homey, I suppose. I guess I can stay wherever  _he’s_  living, for now.”  
  
“The Doctor’s staying at my flat, and no you may not, sir,” said Ianto, still with the utmost politeness.  
  
The Doctor gave Ianto his full attention for the first time. “You don’t like me very much, do you Ianto Jones? I can tell by the way you keep tossing out those ‘sirs.’”  
  
“No, sir, I don’t,” Ianto deadpanned.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because,  _sir_ , you hurt people I care about.”  
  
“Ah, Jack. Well, it’s turned out alright, hasn’t it? He’s got Torchwood now, doesn’t need me,” sniffed the Doctor.  
  
“They tortured him, you know,” said Ianto. “Torchwood did.”  
  
“What do you mean?” asked the Doctor sharply.  
  
“The Torchwood Institute tortured Jack, early in the twentieth century. I read his files. They were testing the limits of his immortality, and trying to get him to tell them how it happened.”  
  
“Well, he couldn’t tell them; he didn’t know then.”  
  
“But he could have told them about you, and about Rose Tyler. Can you imagine what would have happened if Torchwood knew about Rose Tyler before you met her?”   
  
The Doctor stiffened, but Ianto ignored him and went on. “But he held on, for months. Never gave you up.”  
  
The Doctor was silent a moment. “Jack’s forgiven me. I don’t see why you’re dredging up old history. . .”  
  
“Jack will always forgive you. Doesn’t make it right. But it’s not just Jack. I also don’t like the way you treated your human brother.”  
  
The Doctor suddenly jumped to his feet, eyes blazing. Ah, finally a real reaction, thought Ianto grimly satisfied.   
  
“That thief is  _not_  my brother!” said the Doctor with a dangerous undertone.  
  
“Okay, your son,” said Ianto.  
  
“Nor son,” said the Doctor, the deadly calm in his voice now matching Ianto’s.  
  
“What is he, then?”  
  
“He’s. . .” began the Doctor angrily. Then all the anger seemed to drain out of him, and he blinked and looked away. “He’s a genetic anomaly.”  
  
“He has your memories, your emotions, your dreams, your nightmares. . .” said Ianto softly.  
  
“What do  _you_  know about my nightmares, Ianto Jones?”  
  
“You mean the ones about the Horde of Travesties, and the Star of Degradations? Or the ones where you watch your children and grandchildren die on Arcardia trying to protect the ordinary Gallifreyans that the other Time Lords used as Dalek fodder? Or the ones where millions of voices in your head are screaming, as you destroyed your planet? Those nightmares?”  
  
“He  _told_  you?!”  
  
“No, he didn’t tell me. He showed me. He never intended to, but he couldn’t help it. He’s  _human_ , his body needs sleep, and you left him unprotected. No TARDIS to support him. But he managed, he made do. Then he got sick, just an ordinary virus. Something a Time Lord wouldn’t notice. Something that a Time Lord’s companion would never catch, because the TARDIS protects them. His fever shot up, and he started projecting.”   
  
“Oh no,” said the Doctor softly.  
  
“I already knew he had bad dreams. Now I saw them. Luckily I had some psychic training; I was able to protect myself. But he was scared. The way his body was betraying him was so frightening. He felt so alone.”  
  
The Doctor studied his face, searching for something. Ianto kept his expression pleasantly blank. “But he had you, Ianto Jones.”  
  
“Yes, and I was glad I could help. But it should’ve been you. You and the TARDIS,” said Ianto firmly.  
  
“I couldn’t. . .I didn’t ask for him to exist.” The Doctor sat down on the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes.  
  
“That’s often true of family members. Doesn’t mean it’s right to turn your back on them. Anyway, do you prefer pizza or Chinese?” Ianto asked in a more normal tone of voice.  
  
“What?” asked the Doctor, bewildered.  
  
“Dinner. I was going to fetch us some. Pizza or Chinese?”  
  
“Oh. Chinese I suppose. Doesn’t really matter, I’m not hungry.”  
  
“Chinese it is.” Ianto heard the clang and hum of the lift operating and a moment later Jack walked in.   
  
He stopped, looking from Ianto to the Doctor, no doubt sensing something in the air.   
  
“So, what’d I miss?” he asked cheerfully.  



	8. Chapter 8

Jack waited until Ianto had left to get takeaway to sit down on the couch to confront the Doctor.   
  
“So, what were you kids chatting about before I came back?” he asked.   
  
The Doctor snorted. “I’m hardly a kid, Jack.”   
  
“Hey, I’m more than twice your age now. Must give me some privileges. So what’s going on?” Jack’s voice was casual, but he wasn’t planning on budging. The Hub was his territory, and he’d let the Doctor brood on his couch long enough.   
  
The Doctor sighed. “Not much. Your young Mr. Jones just gave me the most meticulous dressing down I’ve received since my Academy days.”   
  
Jack winced. “Sorry about that, Doc. Ianto can be a mother hen sometimes. I’ll talk to him.”   
  
The Doctor waved his hand in the air, shooing away Jack’s words. “No, he made some valid points. Did he tell you. . .did you know about the dreams?”   
  
“Yeah, the Doctor — the other Doctor - told me, after the fact,” Jack said irritably. “He was worried that Ianto might experience some after-effects, wanted me to help keep an eye on him. Would’ve been better if I’d been called in  _during_  the crisis, but for some reason Ianto didn’t think I could help, or maybe that I would help. But he seems okay — no worse than any other alien encounter he’s gone through.” And better than he was after Lisa. Probably easier to deal with someone else’s nightmares than your own. Even a Time Lord’s nightmares.   
  
“He’s lucky his brain didn’t burn out. Probably would’ve, if it had been me there.”   
  
“If it had been you there, you wouldn’t have been projecting in the first place,” said Jack. The Doctor lapsed back into silence, and Jack made a guess at what was bothering him. “You don’t have to worry about Ianto sharing any of the details about what he saw, even to me. He pretty much invented the word discreet.”   
  
“He seems to be a remarkable young man,” said the Doctor absent-mindedly. So it wasn’t the invasion of his Time Lordly privacy bothering him.    
  
“So Jack,” continued the Doctor, “Just how big a prat am I?”   
  
Jack rolled his eyes. “Nuh uh, Doc, we’re not doing this. You want to wallow in self-recrimination, go do it elsewhere. I’ve got more important things to do.” He’d already had a version of this conversation with the human Doctor, and didn’t feel up for a repeat. Only the Doctor could infuse his contrition with so much hubris.   
  
“Elsewhere. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? No TARDIS. I’ve got nowhere to go, and no way to get there even if I did. I’m stuck waiting until he shows up. If he shows up,” said Doctor bitterly.   
  
“He’ll show up. Even if it’s only to refuel,” said Jack reassuringly. “Of course, it might take one hundred and thirty-nine years. . . “ he couldn’t resist adding with a smile.   
  
“Not funny, Jack,” said the Doctor.   
  
“Come on, it’s a little funny. At least can you see the poetic justice here?”   
  
The Doctor glared at him, but it was half-hearted.   
  
Jack let his grin fade, but kept a sympathetic smile. Nothing the Doctor hated more than not being in control; this had to be agonizing for him. “Listen, you ’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want. If you start getting bored, there are lots of shiny alien artifacts to investigate, plus the Rift monitor computer program, which managed to impress your counterpart.”   
  
The Doctor looked around dubiously. “He really felt comfortable working here?”   
  
“Yeah, he did. Of course, he spent the first couple of years of his existence here. I figured he developed an affinity then.”   
  
At the Doctor’s blank look, Jack raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “He was in a jar, in my office, if you remember.”   
  
“Ah yes. Time Lord under glass. Not sure I’m up for the role,” said the Doctor .   
  
Jack tried to keep his tone patient. “Well, you can go back and work for UNIT then. Or you can go visit Martha or Sarah Jane or one of your other friends. Or just travel the world a bit. Your old UNIT accounts are active, you have plenty of money. Christina was right; I’ll let you know as soon as the TARDIS returns.”   
  
The Doctor sighed. “Sorry, Jack. I don’t mean to be difficult. I’ve been separated from the TARDIS before, but it’s just so hard this time. I keep seeing that damn CCTV recording my head. I can’t believe she just left me.”   
  
“Well, I agree that's not like the Rose Tyler I remember, but it’s been years for her, and people do change, you know. And you really didn’t do yourself any favors by picking up a new passenger so soon after Rose found you.” Jack knew the Doctor was sometime oblivious to the nuances of human interactions, but that was pretty dense even for him.    
  
“I’m not talking about Rose!” said the Doctor, voice breaking. “I thought she was better off with him in the first place. It’s the TARDIS I can’t believe left me. It’s not like it was with the Master. He was a Time Lord, she couldn’t refuse his commands, it was locked into her basic programming. She tried, she did her best, but in the end he had all the over-rides. But she should’ve been able to resist the human Doctor. He might have my memories, but he doesn’t have my Time Lord senses. The only way he could fly her — the only way he could’ve entered in the first place, is if she let him. We’ve been together for more than seven centuries, and she just left me.”   
  
Ah, well that explains the dark grey funk the Doctor was in. That sort of fundamental betrayal was hard to shake off. He remembered his mother, turning her back on him for letting go of Gray's hand. Never mind he was just a child himself. His mother's rejection hurt worse than his father's death, or even Gray's disappearance.   
  
Gray's return, now that hurt worst of all. He thought of his brother, locked in a frozen sleep because Jack couldn't bear to let him go, but couldn't dare to let him loose either. Oh, how he wished there was some way. . .    
  
He looked over at the Doctor, who was lost in his own sad thoughts. The human Doctor said that he couldn't do it, but maybe the Time Lord could? Dare he even ask?    
  
What the hell. The worst that could happen is that he'd say no.   
  
"Doctor," he began tentatively. The Doctor looked up and his gaze sharpened at whatever he saw in Jack's face. Jack took a deep breath and continued. "Since you're probably here for a while, I was wondering. . ."   
  
"What is it, Jack?"   
  
"I was wondering if you could try to fix my brother."


	9. Chapter 9

The Doctor woke up feeling — to quote his younger self -  _fantastic_. He’d slept for — good gracious, he’d slept for seven hours and thirty-two minutes. Without waking up once, and no dreams that he could remember. The comforting hum of the TARDIS surrounded him, and curled up beside him was Rose, still fast asleep. The memory of the previous night returned in vivid detail, and he felt his body respond in its predictable way. Perfectly normal, as a healthy human male, for him to imagine nuzzling Rose awake, hands drifting along that soft skin. But no, she needed her sleep. He should just slip away quietly and go check on the TARDIS.  
  
Although, Rose might prefer it if he was here when she woke up.  _Ya think, dumbo?_  He smiled sadly at Donna’s voice. He was starting to get a hang of this being human thing, and owed most of that to Donna. Biology only counted for so much; Donna had shared the best part of her — her heart. He wished he could tell her.  
  
There was no hardship in watching Rose sleep. The TARDIS hummed reassuringly at him; no critical maintenance needed. He thought she might like her stabilizers oiled soon. Oh yes, she’d like that, but it could wait until Rose was awake. She was so lovely, peacefully sleeping. She looked younger, more vulnerable, without the energy that made her so. . . Rose.  
  
He had just finished counting her eyelashes — 113 on her right upper lid, 117 on her left — when her eyes fluttered opened and she smiled. His breath caught with a pleasure that was almost pain.  
  
“Good morning,” she whispered.  
  
“Oh, it’s a very good morning,” he said, and then proceeded to make it an even better morning by kissing her. Her arms wrapped around him and his hands drifted down along her body. Oh lovely. Slow and sweet and intense, their bodies becoming one. That wonderfully terrifying feeling of  _becoming_  his body, with no thoughts controlling it, pure animal instinct joining him with his Rose.  
  
“I love you, Rose,” he whispered afterwards. “I always have.”  
  
“Love you too, Doctor,” she said with a smile. “But as much as I’d like to stay in bed all day, I’m starving!”  
  
“Mmm, starving,” he said, kissing her again. She gave him a quick kiss then swatted him out of the bed. Then ended up in the shower together- the TARDIS having obligingly expanded it for two, and then the Doctor was happily surprised to find a suit hanging in Rose’s closet. For some reason, it would have felt awkward rummaging around in the Time Lord Doctor’s room. He set out a pulse of gratitude to the TARDIS for taking such good care of him.  
  
In the kitchen, he surprised Rose by insisting on fixing her a full breakfast. As he whisked the eggs, she sat at the table, sipping her tea and watching him.  
  
“When did you learn how to cook?” she asked.  
  
“Oh, quite a few regenerations ago. Paris, in the Eighteenth century,” he said, cutting a strawberry into precise thin slices.  
  
“What? Then why haven’t I seen you do it before now?”  
  
“Got out of the habit, I suppose. But it came back quickly enough, when I needed it.” Cooking and cleaning and laundry; all things that he had to learn, or re-learn, once he no longer had the TARDIS to rely on. Didn’t bear to think about. Cooking, at least, was fun. He rather enjoyed fixing breakfast for Ianto in the mornings. Least he could do for the man who’d welcomed him into his flat and nursed him through his first human illness.  
  
But watching Rose’s expression as she bit into the omelet was even more fun.  
  
“Oh, this is  _so_  good,” she moaned.  
  
“I love the way you say that,” he said with a grin, and she smiled back.   
  
She insisted on doing the washing up, which he knew the TARDIS appreciated. She took her time at it, and he could tell she was thinking hard about something. As the last dish was put away, she turned to him and sighed.  
  
“Well, it’s time to go pay the piper,” she said.  
  
“What do you mean?” he asked.  
  
“It’s been wonderful, Doctor, but we need to take the TARDIS back now,” she said firmly.  
  
“No, no, not now. She needs her stabilizers oiled. . .” he said franticly. He wasn’t expecting this, not so soon. He wasn’t ready.  
  
“Which he can take care of,” she said.  
  
“But it’s a time machine, there’s no rush. . .”  
  
“Doctor, the longer we put this off, the harder it’ll be.”  
  
“I’m not ready, Rose. Please. I don’t want to go. . . “ He sounded pitiful, begging her, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t give them up, not now.   
  
She opened her arms to him and he hugged her tight, burying his face against her neck.   
  
“Shhh, love. It’s okay. We have to, don’t you see? What if something happened to us? The TARDIS would be stranded. We can’t do that to her, or to him. Leaving him stuck on Earth to live out all his lives, always hoping that the TARDIS would return? That’d be beyond cruel.”  
  
“I know, but we can be careful. . .”  
  
She laughed. “You mean by going to ‘boring’ years such as 1851? We could’ve both been killed then, and you know it.”  
  
“Well, I wasn’t expecting cybermen to have fallen through time into Victorian England!” he said indignantly.  
  
“Exactly my point. Danger comes when you don’t expect it. But it’s okay, I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you, Doctor. He might have the TARDIS, but you’ll still have me. Being stuck won’t be so bad if you’re with me, right?” she said, with a teasing grin.  
  
Icy cold shock ran through him, and he stepped back out of her arms. “No Rose, absolutely not. You belong here.”  
  
He thought back on that day in Norway.   
  
 _He needs you. And that’s very me._  The Time Lord Doctor was right, he did need her. Both of him needed her, but the human him needed her the most. He had a little speech planned, about he was still the Doctor, but human, with only one life to live, a life he wanted to spend with her. But she spoke first.  
  
 _What about what I need, Doctor? I don’t want to be trapped on a single planet, in a universe I don’t belong in, just to babysit a man you think is too dangerous to be left by himself. You know what I think — I think this really about you. Leaving me behind like you’d say you’d never do. Am I really not welcome on the TARDIS anymore?_  
  
And she was right, so very right. He was being selfish, planning to offer her an ordinary life, when he knew she wanted so much more. She belonged to the stars, not stuck on the slow path with an imitation Doctor. So his speech went unsaid. The Doctor found him another babysitter. Thank goodness Sarah Jane had the patience to deal with him.  
  
And now Rose was going to throw that sacrifice away, because he was being so needy. He couldn’t let her. Absolutely not.  
  
“Doctor, I’m not leaving you alone, not after we. . .”  
  
He interrupted her. “I won’t be alone, Rose. I have people who love me and will take care of me, I promise. They’re not you, but then  _you_  won’t be you if you give up traveling just to babysit me.”  
  
She blushed. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Doctor.”  
  
“No, you were right. You made the best choice, the best choice for  _both_  of us. In that other universe, I wouldn’t have had anything but you, I would’ve clung to you like a drowning man. Bad for both of us. Now I have a job I enjoy and friends who care about me.  _And_  as a bonus I got one last trip on the TARDIS, and a chance to spend some quality time with you. It’s a good life, Rose. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Yeah, but what if he figures out what happened? Don’t think he’d be too pleased with me helping you steal the TARDIS,” she said.  
  
“ _Borrow_  the TARDIS. And yeah, he’ll be a bit put out, but he’ll know it was all my idea. He’ll forgive you.”  
  
She narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like you’re expecting him to know we took it, then. I thought the plan was to have it back in five minutes, before he knew it was gone?”  
  
“Um, yes. Well, I kind of lied about that. Sorry. He knew what was happening the moment I started the dematerialization sequence.”  
  
“And what about when he figures out you and I were lovers? ‘Cause don’t think I’m going to try to hide that from him.”  
  
Actually, she wouldn’t be able to hide that from him. The proper Doctor and his oh-so-superior Time Lord nose would be able to smell it as soon as he saw the two of them together. He tried and failed not to feel a grim sense of satisfaction about the fact.  
  
“He’ll be jealously possessive, of course. Probably take it as a challenge. No more keeping you at a distance, I’m sure of it.” His stomach clenched at the thought, but it would be for the best. Really. It was Rose’s happiness that mattered here, and she wasn’t happy with his Time Lord self right now. This would probably be the catalyst to break through the proper Doctor’s protective walls.   
  
“Yeah, and what if I wanted him to keep his distance, then?” she said challengingly.  
  
“He’d respect that, of course. He’s still the Doctor. But once he sets on a course, he can be  _very_  persuasive.”   
  
Not to mention the fact that the bastard had an unfair advantage with his respiratory bypass and binary vascular system and the fact he didn’t need to sleep for days. Rose gave a little shiver and her eyes darkened. He tried not to feel too dismayed at the thought that she’ll no doubt be persuaded in the end.  
  
 _But I still had her first_ , whispered a not-very-nice voice deep inside. He shushed it.  
  
“Well, we'll see. I’ll tell you one thing, this is not going to be one of those decide-the-rest-of-your-life-in-two-minutes moments. He and I are going to have a proper talk first before I decide anything. And I’m going to see for myself that you’ll really be okay.” She stepped forward to hug him, and he hugged her back, breathing in her scent. He’d be okay. Really.  
  
The TARDIS wasn’t very happy.  _Sorry, dear, I’ll make sure he oils your stabilizers, I promise._  He felt an initial resistance when he entered the coordinates, but at his gentle plea — he couldn’t really demand — she yielded. Cardiff, Wales, 2009.  
  
He looked over at Rose. “Ready?”  
  
She looked nervous. “Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.” She held out her hand and grabbed it. He squeezed it reassuringly, treasuring those last few seconds together. He opened the TARDIS doors and stepped out.  
  
They were in an industrial-looking corridor, very shabby looking, but decorated with colorful flags. Definitely somewhere in Great Britain, but it didn’t look like twenty-first century Wales. People bustled back and forth, focused on their business, paying them no mind. A grinning clown-like figure in a shining glass booth caught his attention, making him feel uneasy. Something not quite right here. Besides being the wrong destination. He caught the attention of a boy rushing past.   
  
“Excuse me, but we’ve gotten turned around. Could you tell us exactly where we are?”  
  
The boy looked at him as if he were mad. “You’re in Cardiff, mate. Deck 42.”  
  
Deck 42? Oh, of course.  
  
He smiled sheepishly at Rose. “Looks like were in 2909 Cardiff, not 2009. And, um, we’re not on Earth.”  
  
She looked at him with exasperation. “Where are we then?”  
  
He looked around again, grinning despite everything. “We’re on the Spaceship UK!”   



	10. Chapter 10

As Jack explained what had happened to his brother Gray, the Doctor became certain that what Jack was asking for was a Bad Idea. He was a connoisseur of bad ideas, and this one merited capital letters.    
  
A young boy, captured by unknown aliens, tortured for years and driven insane, determined to revenge himself on the brother who had let go of his hand while running from the invasion. What could even a Time Lord do about that? Yes, he could heal certain types of damage to the mind, particular when caused by an alien influence. But it wasn’t easy or natural for him, and he’d only tried it when invited to do so by the person needing help.   
  
But this was  _Jack_ . Never mind what he owed him for what happened on the Game Station and on the Valiant, Jack was the person who had convinced UNIT to release the Master’s body, to allow the Doctor the privacy to give him a proper funeral. The Doctor understood all too well Jack’s need to forgive his brother, to make him better, and the debt the Doctor owed Jack was incalculable.   
  
“Well, Doc? When I asked the other Doctor, he said he couldn’t do it, and that even if he were a Time Lord it would still be almost impossibly difficult, but he did say  _almost_ . . .”   
  
Of all the reasons for carrying out this Bad Idea, the worst one would be the impulse to show up the human Doctor. He wished Rose were here, with a sudden fierceness that took him by surprise. When they’d traveled together - her, him, and Jack — she’d been the one who anchored them. Not that she was overly cautious — she’d rush into danger as quick as any of his companions. But she provided a compassionate perspective that helped ground him, helped cut through the fuzzy motives.   
  
But she was gone; she’d chosen the human Doctor, and so had the TARDIS, and this line of thinking wasn’t helping him at all.   
  
“Jack, I might be able to do it if he were a companion, someone who’s traveled with me, someone I knew well.”  _Someone he loved._  “But for a stranger. . .”   
  
“But I’m not a stranger,” said Jack. “And he’s my brother. Couldn’t you, I don’t know, use me somehow to help?”   
  
Use Jack’s memories of his brother to help save him? Maybe. The genetic affinity would help, unless. . . “Is he your biological brother?”   
  
“Yeah, same mother, same father even,” said Jack, obviously trying to keep hope of his voice.   
  
“There’d be risks. I might end up making it worse,” said the Doctor reluctantly.   
  
“No, don’t think you could do that,” said Jack heavily.   
  
“Okay then. I’ll try. But first. . .” he said, listening to the door alert that heralded Ianto’s return with the Chinese takeway, “Let’s eat some dinner.”   
He hadn’t eaten anything but some chips for the last thirty-six hours, and he had a feeling he was going to need his strength for this.   
  
  
* * *   
  
Ianto, when he heard of their plan, radiated silent disapproval. He very carefully set out plates and napkins on the conference table, forestalling their attempts to eat directly out of the cartons. He brought them glasses of ice water and then sat down and picked up a pair of chopsticks without saying a word.   
  
“I haven’t forgotten Tosh and Owen,” said Jack, apparently at random.   
  
“I didn’t say anything, Jack,” Ianto replied.    
  
“Yeah, but you’re not saying anything very loudly.”   
  
Ianto sighed. “Jack, I know you need to do this, but please be careful.”   
  
“We’ll be careful, right Doctor?”   
  
“I’m always careful,” he said, earning an eyeroll from Jack.   
  
“Has he told you everything Gray did, Doctor?” Ianto asked.   
  
“Just the general outlines. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure I know everything before going in.” Since he was planning to enter Jack’s mind anyway, it’d be easier to get the whole story directly, rather than forcing Jack to talk about it.   
  
“So when do you want to start?” asked Jack.   
  
“After dinner. I’ll have a looksee at your memories first, and then well make plans on how to approach Gray.”   
  
They decided the couch would be the best place to begin. The Doctor felt like he’d spent entirely too much time on this couch, but it was still the best that the Hub had to offer. They sat down and he turned to face Jack, placing his hand so his fingers touched the other man’s forehead and cheeks.   
  
“Anything you don’t want me to see, just picture a door. . .”   
  
“Yeah, I remember the drill. . .” The Doctor had done this with Jack twice before. First time, his younger self had tried (and failed) to find Jack’s missing memories from his Time Agency days. The second time was after the Valiant, when the Doctor had carefully checked everyone who lived through the Year That Never Was to make sure the Master didn’t leave any bombshells behind. Everyone had scanned clear, even Lucy, which surprised him.   
  
But this time Jack’s mind felt different, more shadowed, and much vaster. His inner reality was very vivid, and the Doctor found himself walking down a dark corridor reminiscent of the ones here in the Hub. He glanced through a doorway and saw himself, chatting happily with Ianto and examining a stopwatch, then the door closed itself firmly shut. Right, he needed to stay focused on Gray. He’ll have to go deeper than he’d gone before, back into Jack’s childhood memories. The corridor split came to a T intersection, and he took the left turn because it felt right.   
  
The floor of the corridor turned to dirt, and the lights dimmed even further. Clear-walled cells lined the right hand side, empty. He took one step onto the dirt, and then another. Suddenly he was sinking, right into the dirt, it was to his knees, his waist, his shoulders. His arms reached up, hands grabbing at the dirt as he slid down further, dirt up to his neck, pressing into his mouth, his nose. He was completely buried. He calmed himself, letting    
his respiratory bypass kick in, preparing to claw through the dirt.   
  
But of course, it wasn’t dirt, it was Jack’s mind. He had to be careful here.  _Doctor?!_  a panicked thought shook him, coming from everywhere.   
  
“It’s okay, Jack. Stay calm, I’m fine.” He imagined himself in a pocket of air, a protective bubble that inflated, floating up very gently, until he was out.   
  
_Sorry, Doctor. I’m so sorry — almost two thousand years of memories of being buried alive. All the same memory, really, but it accumulates._   
  
“It’s okay, Jack. I’m fine. I’ll be more careful.” He really was terribly out of practice, and Jack’s mind had changed over the centuries; it wasn’t quite human anymore. He focused his thoughts and walked on. The corridor was concrete again. A door to the left creaked open, and he saw a sandy beach and a clear blue sky. Pinwheels were stuck in the sand, spinning in the breeze. Where was Jack born? Boeshane Pennisula, right. This looked good.   
  
Or rather not so good. A howling filled the air, a terrible sound, and suddenly the beach was filled with people running, screaming in fear. A man — Jack’s father, bent over two boys, hands on their shoulders. He spoke to the older boy.   
  
“Take Gray, keep him safe.”   
  
“No, Dad, come with us. . .” said the older boy.    
  
“I have to go find your mother. Now  _run_ !”   
  
The two boys ran, hand in hand, through the crowd of people, trying to reach the shelter of some trees growing on the dunes. They were within a few hundred meters when the younger boy let go of his brother’s hand, and stumbled. The older boy kept running, sprinting for the trees, and then slipping between some exposed roots at the edge of the dune, hiding in a living cage. He looked around. Bodies littered the beach.   
  
“Gray? Gray!!!” But the other boy was gone.   
  
The Doctor closed his eyes, and waved his hand back and forth, like he was erasing a blackboard. When he opened them, the beach was empty, peaceful.   
  
“Okay, let’s see if we can find some happier memories.” He focused his will. Surely Jack and Gray had been here before the invasion. But the beach stayed empty. He concentrated harder.   
  
Then Jack appeared, but an adult Jack, wearing his World War II great coat. He was carrying an intricately carved puzzle box. He walked past the Doctor without seeing him. He stopped and twisted the box open, and turned it over, holding his hand to catch what was inside. Sand. Sand streamed over his hand and then onto the beach, swirling round, forming a vortex, growing bigger and bigger. It turned into a sand storm, a giant cloud obscuring Jack, and the trees, and the beach, pushing the Doctor back, pushing him away.   
  
Then the Doctor was back in the corridor, and doorway showed nothing but blowing sand. Strange. He walked on.   
  
The next door led to an open field, green and lush. He stepped through and tasted the air. He was in Wales, about 27 AD. Three men were in the field. One was Jack, one was a curly haired man with a Time Agent vortex manipulator on his wrist, and the third was a young in tan clothes who approached the pair with outstretched arms.   
  
“Gray!” shouted Jack, running to go hug him. The Doctor could feel Jack’s happiness rushing through him, happy to see his little brother alive and safe. He hugged him tight and the happiness stayed, even after the younger man pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the side. It was okay, it was okay, Gray could stab all he liked, as long as he was alive and safe.   
  
The Doctor listened as Gray spewed out his anger and hate and unforgiveness for the brother who let go of his hand, the brother who had lived. Who would always live. The scene stuttered, and then he was standing over an open grave, looking down at Jack, who was reviving. Gray vowed to bury Jack alive, leaving him to suffer eternally in the foundations of the city he’d sworn to protect, while Gray went back to destroy everything Jack had loved.    
  
Jack simply closed his eyes in acceptance.   
  
“It’s not your fault, Jack,” the Doctor whispered to the air. “You were just a child yourself.”   
  
The air around him grew dense; Jack refusing the Doctor’s comfort. And of course it wasn’t  _Jack_  he was supposed to fix, at least not directly. He turned around and walked away, finding himself back in the corridor.   
  
Just in time to see Jack confronting Gray again, in the corridors of the Hub. “I forgive you,” he said, and the Doctor shivered. Gray shouted his denial, and Jack grabbed him, holding a cloth over his mouth. “I forgive you,” he whispered again, as his brother collapsed to the floor.   
  
Finally, back in the main room of the Hub, in the autopsy bay. Jack tearfully preparing Gray for long-term cryofreezing. The unknown Time Agent questioning what good it would do, and Jack’s reply.   
  
“There’s been enough death.” And the Doctor suddenly felt Jack emptiness, losing two of the people who were on his team.    
  
The Doctor sighed and walked over to sit on the couch, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he was back to reality, sitting by Jack, having just removed his hands from Jack’s face.   
  
Jack opened his eyes, blinking back tears. “Wow, pretty intense.”   
  
“Yes, sorry Jack. Stirred up a lot of stuff. You okay?”   
  
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” His nose twitched and Ianto appeared, seemingly from nowhere, with a steaming mug of coffee. “Ah, I’ll be even more than fine. Have you tried Ianto’s coffee yet? I know you ordinarily prefer tea, but Ianto’s coffee is in a beverage class by itself.”   
  
The Doctor looked at the quiet young man who was waiting to hear the Doctor’s preference. “Maybe later.”   
  
Jack cleared his throat. “So, did you get what you needed? Can you help Gray?”   
  
“It’s not impossible, but the chances aren’t good, Jack.” He’d gotten plenty of information to show Gray how much Jack loved him, but not much to help Gray see  _himself_  as a healthy person worthy of love. If only he’d been able to find some happy memories. . .but maybe he could find them    
inside Gray.   
  
“Actually, Doctor, I’d prefer it if you said it was impossible, because then I’d  _know_  you could do it,” said Jack with a grin.   
  
“Okay, it’s impossible,” said the Doctor with a smile.   
  
Unfortunately, he was afraid this time he was going to be proven right.


	11. Chapter 11

The Time Lord Doctor was so good at appearing human, it made his alien nature even more disturbing. Little things grated, like the way he tilted his head when he focused on a particular problem, or the stillness of his expression when he wasn’t actively engaged in conversation. Ianto might have not even noticed if he hadn’t known the human version of the Doctor so well, but as it was, those moments gave him a shiver.   
  
But alien or not, the Doctor cared about Jack. This revelation surprised Ianto; he had assumed, based on the stories (including the human Doctor’s own self-recriminating rants), that the Time Lord Doctor saw humans as useful animals, to be cared for because of that usefulness, and then discarded when no longer needed. However, there was no mistaking the concern in the Doctor’s eyes when talking to Jack about Gray’s treatment, or the fact that the Doctor was doing this against his better instincts, just because it was something that Jack wanted so much.   
  
The preparations for Gray’s revival were complete. He was on an infirmary bed in the medical bay — Jack had refused to put him on the autopsy table. A sheet covered his nakedness, and EKG leads were attached to his chest. At Ianto’s insistence, soft restraints bound his wrist and ankles to the bed. Even the best of patients could get violent after a revival, and Gray was not the best of patients. Ianto would be assisting the Doctor; Jack would be observing from the main room of the Hub, out of Gray’s sight.   
  
Jack had tried to argue about that, but the Doctor stayed firm. “Jack, you’ve been the focus of his anger for almost his whole life; I’ll have the best chance of getting through to him if you’re not there to set him off.”   
  
So it was Ianto who used the hypospray to inject Gray’s neck with the cryofreeze antagonist as the Doctor carefully watched. Less than a minute later, the EKG monitor showed a steady heartbeat, and then Gray let in a gasp of air reminiscent of Jack’s revivications. Ianto braced himself for Gray’s struggles as consciousness returned, but Gray’s eyes simply opened, a disturbingly blank stare as Gray took in the details of the Doctor, and Ianto, and the medical bay he was held in. He pulled once at the restraints, but made no other movement.   
  
It occurred to Ianto that this might not be the first time Gray had awoken restrained in a medical setting. The thought made him queasy on several different levels.   
  
“Gray, can you hear me? Don’t worry, you’re safe. I’m the Doctor, and I’m here to help you,” said the Doctor calmly.   
  
Gray focused on the Doctor’s face, and his eyes widened with fear and confusion. “Doctor? Where, where am I? What happened?”   
  
“What’s the last thing you can remember?” asked the Doctor.   
  
“My brother, my brother Jack,” said Gray, looking from the Doctor to Ianto. The expression of bewilderment was very different from the hatred that Ianto had last seen, when Gray locked him in a cell with a Weevil.    
  
“He was hugging me, he said he forgave me, he forgave me for all the terrible things I did, I remember that. . .” continued Gray.   
  
“And now Jack has asked me to help you,” said the Doctor.   
  
“Help me how?”   
  
“With your permission, I’d like to look into your mind, and see if I can fix the damage that your captors have done.”    
  
Gray’s eyes widened. “Go into my mind, and fix it? You can do that?”   
  
“I can try,” said the Doctor with a smile.   
  
“Okay, what do I do?” he said with friendly eagerness. Ianto stomach clenched — the tone was just a little too perfect.   
  
“Just close your eyes and relax,” said the Doctor, moving his hand to Gray’s face and closing his own eyes. “If there is anything you don’t want to share, just picture a door. I won’t look.”   
  
“Don’t worry, Doctor, there’s nothing I want to hold back,” said Gray, his voice growing firm. “I’ve got nothing to hide from Jack’s precious  _Doctor._  The one person he loved that I couldn’t touch. Take a look, Doctor, see what Jack did, see what I’ve become because of him, look damn you, LOOK!”   
  
Gray’s face twisted in a scowl beneath the Doctor’s fingers, and the Doctor became rigid. Gray began to thrash and his left hand yanked hard on its restraint, arm muscles bulging. Ianto grabbed at the hand and held it down, hissing in pain as Gray grabbed at his little finger finger and  _twisted_ . Ianto felt the sudden sharp pain as it snapped, but grimly held on.   
  
A kaleidoscope of images slammed into his brain. He saw Gray’s captors, and they were  _beautiful_ , he had never imagined they’d be beautiful. Tall humanoids with feathery white hair, pale skin and large violet eyes. He watched them experiment with hundreds of different tortures, of Gray and countless others, a camp on a desolate moon with no escape possible except death.   
  
And he saw Gray cooperating with them, showing them humanity’s weaknesses. Torture not just of the flesh but of the soul. Gray infiltrating different groups of humans in the camps, learning their secrets. A mother was forced to kill her child so that another might live another week free of torture. A father was forced to — oh god, it was too horrible. Ianto was huddled on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, and still the images came, of Gray  _enjoying_  the pain he caused, admiring his captors. His sadness when the left him chained and alone with the pile of dead he’d help create. He had wanted to go with them. Abandoned again.   
  
_**Enough** _  said a firm voice, echoing like thunder. The images tumbled away, shrinking, and for a moment Ianto saw the universe spin round him, and the images dwindled to a pinpoint, and then disappeared. Gray gave a despairing cry.   
  
_**Time to sleep, Gray** _  rumbled the voice again, and it was the Doctor’s voice, grown impossibly powerful.    
  
Ianto opened his eyes and realized that the voice had been in his head. He was curled up on the floor, and Jack was there, holding him, calling his name.   
  
“I’m okay, Jack. Let me up,” he said. His little finger was throbbing.   
  
“Hang on a moment, let me look at him,” said the Doctor scooting around the bed to kneel by Ianto. “I felt you in the link. How’d that happen?”   
  
“Not sure. It started when Gray grabbed my finger.”   
  
“Hmmm, could be an outgrowth of his experiences, or maybe it was an echo of your link to the other Doctor. Do you mind if I check. . . ?”   
  
Ianto sighed wearily. He didn’t particularly want the Doctor rummaging around his head, but it was probably best that he did. “Go ahead.”   
  
The Doctor’s fingers were cool against his skin, and his mind felt like a gentle breeze, blowing away the remnants of the images from Gray’s mind. He didn’t probe past the last few minutes, and slipped out before Ianto fully realized he’d been in.    
  
“He’s okay,” said the Doctor, speaking to Jack. “Although his finger needs attention.” He took Ianto’s hand in his and gently aligned the broken little finger, which was just beginning to swell. A whir of the sonic screwdriver and the pain faded to dull ache.   
  
“There, should be good as new by morning,” he continued, stashing away the sonic.   
  
“And Gray?” said Jack, helping Ianto stand up. The Doctor rose as well, and they looked down at the sleeping man.   
  
“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m very sorry. There’s nothing left to fix. The brother you knew is gone, even his memories before the invasion have been corrupted. The only other thing to try would be a memory wipe, but I’d have to go back so far that he’d essentially be an infant again. It still wouldn’t be Gray.”   
  
Jack bowed his head. “Thanks, Doctor. Thanks for trying. . .we knew it was a longshot.” His voice was like gravel.   
  
“Jack,” said Ianto, lightly touching his shoulder. He waited until Jack raised his head and looked him in the eye. “Why don’t you go finish up your paperwork in your office? I’ll take care of things here.”   
  
He held Jack’s gaze for almost a full minute before Jack looked down and nodded. He walked over to his sleeping brother and smoothed his hair back, and kissed his forehead.   
  
“I love you, Gray,” he said.   
  
Ianto waited until Jack’s office door closed before picking up the hypospray and removing and discarding the empty canister. He went to a drawer to pull out a new canister, attached it to the hypospray and approached Gray.   
  
The Doctor stepped in front of him. “That’s not the cryofreeze solution,” he said.   
  
“No, it’s not,” replied Ianto calmly.   
  
“Jack didn’t ask you to do this.”   
  
Ianto stayed firm. “Jack couldn’t ask me to do this. It’s my gift to him. He did the same for me, once. Killed the monster I never could.”   
  
At the Doctor raised eyebrows, Ianto continued. “My girlfriend Lisa. She was partially converted to a Cyberman. We were at Torchwood One together.” Ianto noticed but ignored the Doctor’s stiffening. “I brought her here, hid her in the basement. I thought I could cure her. Even after she started killing, I couldn’t bring myself to do what was needed. Jack did it for me.”    
  
The Doctor looked away. “It still doesn’t feel right.”   
  
Ianto waited until the Doctor looked back at him. “Do you have another solution to suggest? Cryofreezing him would be the same thing, just slower. This needs to end tonight. You saw what he was, Doctor. I’m not going to take the chance he’ll ever get loose to hurt Jack again.”   
  
The Doctor sighed and stepped out of Ianto’s way.    
  
“Thank you. You don’t need to stay,” said Ianto.   
  
“Yes, I do,” replied the Doctor.   
  
Ianto nodded and approached the sleeping young man. He took the hypospray and injected his neck. His hand did not shake. He thought of Jack, watching this from his office, or maybe later on the CCTV and smoothed the young man’s hair as the heartbeats on the EKG monitor began to slow. A prayer didn’t seem appropriate, but he wanted to make some sort of gesture. He began a lullaby his mum used to sing, when he was very small.   
  
_Holl amrantau'r sêr ddywedant  
Ar hyd y nos  
Dyma'r ffordd i fro gogoniant  
Ar hyd y nos.  
  
Golau arall yw tywyllwch  
I arddangos gwir prydferthwch  
Teulu'r nefoedd mewn tawelwch  
Ar hyd y nos_ .   
  
By the end of the song, the heartbeats had stopped and an alarm sounded. He turned it off, and began the task of preparing the body for long term storage. Once Torchwood had you, you never left. The Doctor helped lift the body into the cyrostorage chamber and wheel it down to the mortuary.   
  
“It’s strange,” said the Doctor after they sealed up the mortuary drawer. “I know more than nine billion languages, but Welsh isn’t one of them. Funny I end up spending so much time in Cardiff.”   
  
Ianto smiled. “The other Doctor said the same thing. But he knows Welsh now; I taught him. Took him about two weeks to become reasonably fluent.”   
  
“Really?” said the Doctor.   
  
“Yes, and no, that is not a challenge for you to learn it in one week.”    
  
The Doctor laughed. “You’re a perceptive young man, Ianto Jones.”   
  
“So I’ve been told. Come on, let’s go see how Jack’s coping.”   
  
Jack was coping by throwing himself into his paperwork and pretending the whole night never happened. Ianto decided to leave him to it for now; he’d try and reach him on a more personal level later. He focused on his own paperwork, including cataloging the new entry into the mortuary.   
  
The Doctor looked around the Hub for a moment and then stared at the couch with loathing.   
  
“Ianto Jones, I think I’ll take you up on your offer of helping me find a place to stay. I don’t need much sleep, but today’s just about wiped me out.”   
  
Ianto finished the last piece of data entry and then turned to the Doctor. “It looks like the guest room in my flat will be unoccupied for a while. You’re welcome to stay there tonight.”   
  
“Thought you didn’t want me,” said the Doctor.   
  
“I changed my mind.” At the Doctor’s reluctant look, Ianto continued. “And I do believe that I may still have a stash of Jaffa cakes, if you’re interested.”   
  
The Doctor’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I love jaffa cakes! But I suppose you know that. Okay, then, tonight it’s Chez Jones. Thank you.”   
  
“You’re quite welcome. I’m pretty tired myself. Glad the Rift’s quiet tonight; I should be finished up here shortly.”   
  
As if on cue, an alarm started beeping from the main computer. Not a Rift alert, it was one of the security monitoring programs. Jack burst out of his office and raced over to the main terminal and activated the read-out. Ianto peered over his shoulder. Jack saw which protocol was activated and cursed.   
  
“What is it, Jack?”   
  
Jacks fingers flew over the keyboard. “Lucy Saxon. She’s been assigned a new guardian, and is being moved to Broadfell.”   
  
The Doctor, who’d been keeping his distance, looked alarmed. He hurried over to the terminal. “Lucy Saxon? The Master’s wife?”   
  
“Yeah. Before he was even elected prime minister, Harold Saxon had a group of seriously brainwashed followers. They helped him get the Archangel network in place, but they weren’t directed by their link to it — he had some sort of deeper level of control with them. They were rounded up after the Valiant, but I was always worried we might’ve missed some. So I set up a monitoring system for any signs they might be active, one of which was changes to Lucy’s confinement.”   
  
“Oh,” said the Doctor. Ianto thought he sounded strangely subdued.   
  
“I’m checking the authorizations for Lucy’s transfer,” said Jack. “They’re at the correct security levels, but they didn’t include anyone who had specific knowledge of the Valiant. This stinks to high heaven.”    
  
He pulled out his mobile out and hit the speed dial.   
  
“Martha? Valiant Defense protocol just activated. Lucy’s being moved to Broadfell prison. Could you arrange some UNIT troops to go there ASAP? I’m going there directly.”   
  
He checked the coordinates and then flipped open his wrist unit and entered them in. Ianto checked his firearm and then quickly tucked his arm in Jack’s. He wasn’t going to let Jack go alone. The Doctor was frowning at them.   
  
“Jack, I thought I told you no. . .” began the Doctor, grabbing Jack’s other arm. There was a flash of light.   
  
“Teleports,” finished the Doctor. He stepped back from them, staggering just a bit. They were standing outside the gates of a massive old building. The sign on the gates said Broadfell.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Ianto sings is a traditional Welsh lullaby “Ar Hyd y Nos” (All Through the Night). Here’s the English translation:
> 
> Sleep my child and peace attend thee,  
> All through the night  
> Guardian angels God will send thee,  
> All through the night
> 
> Soft the drowsy hours are creeping  
> Hill and vale in slumber steeping,  
> I my loving vigil keeping  
> All through the night.


	12. Chapter 12

Rose sat in the voting room, watching the video in horror. The truth behind the Starship UK unraveled before her. Solar flares roasted the Earth, and every country turned inward to protect its own. The United Kingdom completed its escape ship, but the fission reactor was broken; it would never leave orbit. Refugees crowded the observation decks, protected for now by the ship’s shielding, but not for much longer. Families watched from behind the tinted shields as the surface of the planet burned, and the children cried.

Then it arrived, like a miracle. The Star Whale, creature of good omen, and the last of an ancient race, intelligent and kind. It swam past the observation decks, and a quick-thinking crewman cast a traction net over it, and it towed them away from the burning Earth. Then came the horribly clever plan, to jettison the engine and replace it with the whale, forcing it to carry the nation across the stars by applying electric shock to the pain centers of its brain. Thus the United Kingdom was saved. And damned.

Now Rose was faced with a choice, to forget what she had just seen, or protest. Except it was no choice at all; she’d learned long ago about the importance of taking a stand. Her hand slammed down on the “Protest” button.

There was a loud rude buzz and the creepy Smiler in the glass booth turned to its “angry” face. Then the floor started moving, opening up. Rose leapt over the widening crack to the door, but it was sealed tight. Below the floor was a shaft that went down, far down. She pounded on the door, and then screamed as the floor disappeared and she fell.

But it wasn’t free fall; there was a cushion of air, which guided her to a tube, which shot her into. . . ugh, a heap of soggy garbage. She pushed herself up, almost slipped, and then stood looking all around. She was in a vast cavern, illuminated by a reddish light shining down a series of tubes. The floor beneath her shifted, and the realization hit her.

She was inside the Star Whale. In its mouth, to be precise. Soon to be in its stomach, unless she did something clever soon. She tried to remember what the whale looked like from the video — the mouth did open. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and there it was, a jagged row of teeth marking the way out. But how?

The Star Whale was intelligent, she remembered. Maybe. . .maybe it could hear her? May the TARDIS could translate? Worth a try. She took a deep breath, stifled a cough from the stench, and tried to project her words.

“Excuse me, Star Whale? Can you hear me? My name is Rose Tyler. I’m stuck in your mouth. I’m so sorry for what’s been done to you. I’ll try to help you, I promise, if I can get out. Could you let me out? Please?”

A long pause, and then the mouth slowly opened. Rose carefully eased past the teeth into a corridor, and then looked back as the mouth closes again.

“Thank you! I’ll go find my friend and we’ll help, I promise. It’s what we do.”

The whale made no response, or at least none that Rose could hear. But she felt like her words had been understood and accepted. She turned and walked through a door into the middle of a corridor. At the end of the corridor was a door, with a big “Forget” button next to it.

“Uh uh, no way I’m forgetting. The Doctor needs to know about this.” It would break his heart, she knew, but he needed to know everything, so they could set it right.

There was a loud click and the lights snapped on at the other end of the corridor, illuminating two glass booths with the creepy Smilers inside. Their heads turned to their “angry” faces. She marched down towards them.

“No use making faces at me, I said I’m not doing it. Not pushing that button, so you better let me out, before my friend the Doctor finds me. Have you heard of the Doctor? Oncoming Storm, Destroyer of Worlds? Believe me, you don’t want to get on his bad side.”

The booths opened, and the Smilers stood up. Oh. She didn’t realize they could do that. She began to back away. This was feeling uncomfortably familiar, and she flashed back to the clockwork men on the derelict spaceship, where the Doctor had left her for five and a half hours. Not her favorite memory.

“Now look,” she began, when suddenly a cloaked figure stepped out through a doorway on the side and brushed past her, firing energy weapons at the two Smilers. They collapsed. And right behind the cloaked figure was. . .

“Doctor!” she called. 

“Rose!” He wrapped her in a tight hug. “You’re okay! You’re safe! You’re. . .covered in garbage?” He backed up, holding her at arms’ length, his nose wrinkling.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, I’m a bit manky. Got dropped into the mouth of a Star Whale.” 

“Ah, well that explains a few things,” he said, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her passionately. 

She squeaked in surprise, and then kissed him back. That’s right, they did this now. It had felt so much like old times she’d forgotten that the invisible line had already been crossed. This Doctor was hers to kiss.

The Doctor pulled his head back to gasp for breath. “You gave me a bit of a worry, there, where your biosignature suddenly plunged down 600 meters into the ship.”

“I’m okay, I’m fine, but we’ve got to do something. . .”

“Yes, yes. You’re right about that, but first let me introduce you to Liz Ten. That’s Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Tenth. Liz, this is Rose Tyler.”

The cloaked figure lowered her hood to reveal the striking features of a woman that Rose recognized from the video. She froze.

The other woman smiled. “Dame Rose, isn’t it?” she said, shaking Rose’s hand. “You’re the one who met Vicky.”

“Pleased to meet you, mum,” Rose said, tried to work out what Liz was doing there. She was the one who had authorized the use of the Star Whale in the first place.

“I’ve been helping Liz figure out exactly what her government has been hiding from her, and I think you’ve fallen into the final piece of the puzzle.” The Doctor smiled at her, but his eyes were infinitely sad. Yes, he had figured it out.

He continued. “I think it’s time to bring down the government.”

Rose smiled at him. “Could I possibly have a shower first?”

The shower in Liz’s quarters could handle clothes too, much like the elevators at the hospital on New Earth. It was too small to share, alas, so the Doctor waited his turn. When they were both presentable, they joined Liz in her sitting room in order to plan on how to find the person responsible. Which turned out easier than they thought, when a cloaked human/Smiler hybrid came order to escort them to the Tower of London.

There, the queen learned the terrible truth. That she was the one to authorize the torture of the Star Whale, and then chose to forget. Chose that everyone would forget, in order to preserve some semblance of untainted humanity. Although Rose questioned to herself how untainted a society could be that fed “undesirable” children to a great beast, never mind that the “beast” in question always refused to eat the children.

“So what do we do, Doctor?” she asked. She didn’t like the bleak expression on his face.

“It’s an impossible choice. Either we free the whale, condemning every man, woman and child on this ship to death. Or we allow this beautiful creature to continue on for hundreds more years in agony. Or I could send an electrical shock through the whale’s brain, destroying higher brain functions. The ship would still fly, but the whale wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Couldn’t we free the whale and have the TARDIS tow the ship to safety?” she asked.

“No, the minute the whale shakes free, the whole ship breaks apart. There’d be nothing to tow. And then there are the timelines to consider. I don’t have my full time sense anymore, but I can still recognize a fixed point. The Starship UK must safely reach its destination, several hundred years from now.”

“But to destroy its brain — that would be killing it. It helped me, Doctor. When I asked, it let me go. Even though it was being tortured. And I promised to help it in return.” Amazing, when she thought about it, that after all these years of pain it could still choose to be kind. And it refused to eat the children. . . 

“I’m sorry, Rose. The only help I can offer is to end its pain. . .”

“Why don’t we just ask it? Stop the torture, and ask it if it would still carry the ship?”

“Why would it do that, Rose? After all it’s gone through?” asked the Doctor sadly.

“Why do you keep helping us stupid apes, Doctor? We cause you enough headaches, but you keep coming back,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back. “You forget that I’m a stupid ape now, too. Okay, I suppose it doesn’t hurt to ask. Your Majesty, will you authorize this?”

“Yeah, let it be done,” said Liz, with a wave of her hand.

The electrical impulses that had been zapping the exposed pain center of the Star Whale’s brain ceased, and the Doctor knelt down to very gently touch the whale with a hand. The ship gave an alarming shudder, and the man at the control exclaimed. “We’ve accelerated!” he said.

The Doctor stood up and grinned at Rose. “You’re brilliant! Turns out, the Star Whale couldn’t stand to see the children crying. She never needed to be captured, or tortured. She was facing thousands of years of loneliness, and was happy to spend a few hundred of them helping the humans.”

“I’m so glad,” she said, giving him a tight hug.

After making sure the Star Whale was all settled, they managed to slip away to the TARDIS with a minimum of fuss. Liz was grateful for their help, but also happy that they weren’t planning on lingering. Guilty conscience, probably.

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor stared at the control panel, looking lost in thought.

“Alright, Doctor. Let’s try this again. Time to go to Cardiff, Wales, Earth, 2009,” Rose said gently

When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Doctor?”

“Do you hear it?” he asked.

“Hear what?”

“The Ood. They’re calling me, through the Time Vortex. They shouldn’t be able to do that, to call across time and space. I think there’s something wrong. Maybe we should check it out.” The Doctor looked pensive.

“Wait a minute, slow down. You’re talking about the people with the tentacles on their faces, right? The ones that chased me through the maintenance ducts at the sanctuary base on Krop Tor?”

“Yeah. Donna and I visited their home planet. Turned out that the Ood were supposed to be linked by a giant Ood brain, but the humans had suppressed it, to keep the Ood docile. Donna and I helped free them. No more Ood slaves.” The Doctor still looked subdued.

“Okay, then, what aren’t you telling me?” She laughed at his surprised look. “I know you, Doctor. You’re keeping something from me, trying to protect me. You should’ve learned better by now.”

He sighed. “Last time I saw them, the Ood said my song might be ending soon. I’m not sure now which “me” they meant, but either way, it’s not something I’m too keen on finding out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not sure why you should worry about prophecy. But every story I’ve ever heard says that the surest way of having a prophecy come true is to try and avoid it. If you think we need to see the Ood, let’s do it, and let the songs take care of themselves.”

“Rose, you are brilliant. Really you are. Okay, next stop, the Oodsphere! Oh, you might want to get a warm coat from the wardrobe. And come to think of it, could you get me a scarf and hat too? I can’t regulate my body temperature the way I used to, and the Ood home world is very cold.”

Rose had to choke back a laugh, seeing the Doctor bundled up. The scarf looked nice and warm and tucked into his coat. He muttered something about it being just as well, since he’d probably lost the knack of walking without tripping over it. The hat was a bit funny looking, with flaps to keep his ears warm, but she supposed that the Ood wouldn’t care how they were dressed.

Sure enough, there was an Ood waiting for them in a snow-swept landscape as they opened the TARDIS doors. The Doctor introduced him as Ood Sigma, and seemed happy to see him.

“Thank you, Doctor, for coming so quickly. There may yet be time.”

“Time for what?” asked the Doctor.

“The Mind of the Ood is troubled, Doctor. Every night, we have bad dreams. We see changes in time, long past, that threaten the now. Changes that may threaten the whole of creation. Come quickly, and we will show you.”

Rose and the Doctor followed him into a cave where a group of elder Ood sat around a fire, chanting. You will join, you will join, you will join, you will join, you will join, you will join. Rose and the Doctor sat down and joined the circle, holding hands with the Ood on either side.

The elder Ood spoke in a low rhythmic tone. “Returning, returning, returning, it is slowly returning, through the dark and the fire and the blood. It is returning and he is returning and they are returning. He has come, he has come, there still yet may be time, he has come.”

Suddenly, the image of a handsome young man appeared in Rose’s mind, laughing. She felt the Doctor tense beside her, his hand gripping hers hard.

“He comes to us, every night,” said Ood Sigma.

“That man is dead!” said the Doctor.

The elder Ood spoke. “There is more. Events are occurring, so many years ago, that threaten the now. There is one, the most lonely of all, lost and forgotten.”

The image of a young woman appeared in Rose’s mind, thin and hunched, sitting on a bench in a prison cell. “We see so much, but understand little. The woman in the cage, who is she?” asked Ood Sigma.

“Lucy Saxon, the Master’s wife. It wasn’t her fault. The Master, he’s a Time Lord. I can show you. . .” said the Doctor.

Rose gasped. Another Time Lord? But as the Master’s story unfolded in her mind, she saw that he was not like the Doctor at all. Conquest and death and destruction were his goals. He seemed clearly quite mad.

The Doctor spoke again. “I reversed everything he’d done, so it never even happened. But Lucy Saxon remembered, and shot him. I held him in my arms, I burnt his body. The Master is dead.”

“He is the One Who Would Not Die. You did not see all. See it now,” said the elder Ood.

She saw an image of the Doctor, looking impossibly sad and lonely, turning away from a funeral pyre. And then a ring dropped to the ground. A little while later, a woman’s hand picked up the ring.

“Part of him survived? We have to go!” said the Doctor urgently.

“But something more is threatening. The Master is part of a greater design. Because a shadow is falling over creation. Something vast is stirring in the dark. The Ood has gained this power to see through time because time is bleeding. Shapes of things once lost are moving through the veil. This is what we have seen, Doctor. The One Who Would Not Die will bring the darkness, unless he is stopped,” proclaimed the elder Ood.

“What will stop him?” asked Rose.

“The One Who Would Not Die can be stopped by the One Who Would,” said the elder Ood.

Rose didn’t like the sound of that. “And if he is not stopped?” 

“This darkness heralds only one thing. The end of time itself.”

“Rose, we’ve got to go now,” said the Doctor, hauling her to her feet and yanking her toward the tunnel leading to the cave entrance. As soon as they were clear of the cave, he broke out in a frantic run through the snow. She sprinted, trying to keep up with him. As soon as the TARDIS doors were closed behind them, he ran to the control panel and took them into the Vortex. He paused to strip off his hat and coat and scarf and then flung himself into piloting the ship, moving levers so quickly that sparks flew.

“Come on, girl, as fast as you can, please. . . “ he muttered.

“Doctor? Why do we need to move so fast? Can’t you just time it so we arrive before the bad stuff happens?”

He sighed heavily. “Not when there’s another Time Lord involved. Especially not when that Time Lord is the Master. Our timelines are so intertwisted. . . my personal timeline has to stay relative to events that involve him, which are occurring in the past even as we’re talking now.”

“Right, got it. Timey wimey wibbly wobbly,” she said.

“Exactly. Rose — this is likely to get very bad. I’d like you to stay in the TARDIS.”

“Not happening, so don’t waste your breath.”

He grimaced, but didn’t argue. “Okay, but please promise me that you’ll listen. If I say run, you run and don’t look back.”

“I’ll be careful, Doctor. I promise.” She wasn’t about to promise to run away and leave him.

The Doctor looked like he wanted to argue, but was stopped by the dematerialization sequence. They had arrived. It was night time, and directly in front of the TARDIS was a hulking old brick building. Rose could just make out the name from the sign by the gates. It said Broadfell.

“Doctor!” said a handsome young man with a Welsh accent, approaching them from the shadows. Rose recognized him as one of Jack’s Torchwood employees who’d appeared on Harriet Jones’ video conference during the Dalek invasion. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to stop the Master. What’s been happening here?” asked the Doctor.

“Jack and the other Doctor are inside, checking on Lucy Saxon. Someone transferred her to this prison, which set off security alarms. I’m supposed to wait here for UNIT to arrive.” The young man seemed just as unhappy as Rose would’ve been to be left behind.

“Good. Rose, I need your TARDIS key,” said the Doctor.

She lifted the chain from around her neck and held the whole thing out to the Doctor. He grabbed the key and pointed it at the TARDIS. The TARDIS shimmered and disappeared.

Rose gasped. “Where. . . ?”

“I just put her a second out of sync. I absolutely cannot risk the Master finding the TARDIS. If something happens to me, let the proper Doctor know. He’ll be able to find her.”

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and focused on the key again, running the sonic across its surface. “I’m turning the key into a perception filter. It will help me get into the building unseen. Probably won’t work with the Master; it didn’t last time. Then again, I’m human now, so he might not sense me as easily.”

“Yeah? And I can’t help notice that we’ve only got one key. What am I suppose to do?”

The Doctor put his hands on her shoulder and looked at her intently. “Rose, I’m begging you here, please stay with Ianto until UNIT arrives. You can come to the rescue then, but please don’t put yourself in harm’s way alone. If the Master were to threaten you, I just don’t trust myself to make the right decision.”

She looked into his eyes a long moment before nodding. “Okay, I promise. But as soon as back up’s here, I’m coming in, hear me?” She hugged him hard.

He squeezed her briefly and then turned to Ianto. “Ianto, may I borrow your gun, please?”

If Rose hadn’t already known how serious it was, that would’ve told her. The gun looked so alien in the Doctor’s hand. Ianto took off his shoulder holster and buckled it onto the Doctor, and the Doctor slid the gun away. He took a deep breath.

“Okay then. Ianto, look after Rose.” At Rose’s annoyed sound, he smiled and continued. “Rose, look after Ianto. Wish me luck.”

They watched him sonic the gate and slip through, disappearing into the dark of the prison’s grounds.

“He thinks he’s going to meet his death,” whispered Rose softly. “The One Who Would Not Die can be stopped by the One Who Would.” Damn annoying prophecies.

“Well, we’ll just have to prove him wrong,” said Ianto staunchly. “UNIT should arrive any minute.”

As if in response to his words, a black jeep arrived and four helmeted soldiers jumped out, rifles at the ready. The black-on-black uniforms alarmed Rose even before Ianto spoke.

“Those aren’t UNIT uniforms,” he said, and then raised his hands in the air as the rifles aimed at them. Rose raised hers a beat later.

A fifth solider without a helmet climbed out and scanned them with a hand-held computer. He looked at the output and then pushed a button, speaking into it as if it were a phone.

“Mr. Naismith? We’ve arrived at Broadfell and apprehended two people waiting outside. Scans indicate they are Ianto Jones and Rose Tyler.

“Really? They may be useful when we talk to Mr. Saxon. Secure them and bring them with you. Then go find Saxon, if he really has returned. I’ll be there with more troops shortly.”

The faceless soldiers ignored their protests as they handcuffed Rose’s and Ianto’s hands behind them. Black bags were pulled over their heads and they were marched forward, presumably through the gates of Broadfell.

Rose remembered the Doctor’s warning and her heart plunged.


	13. Chapter 13

It began with the drums. Onetwothreefour onetwothreefour onetwothreefour onetwothreefour. Calling him, calling him back from nothing. Calling him back from the dead. Thoughts formed — it’s working, he’s never dying. He would  _never_  die! His flesh formed and he found his voice    
  
“Never. Never. Never dying, never dying, never dying!” he called out, as the inner circle of his disciplines fed him their life force.    
  
He’d been so very clever, keeping his disciples secret, keeping them separate. Engraving their susceptible minds with his will. Sharing the secret of his ring, imprinted with his bio-data, and the formula for the resurrection emulsion. And of course, his most brilliant plan, taking a human wife to preserve his living biometrical signature.   
  
Pity that she also turned out to be the reason he  _needed_  resurrection. Ah, and there she was, kneeling before him as she should. He smiled down at her.   
  
“Oh Lucy, sweet Lucy Saxon, my ever faithful, did the widow’s kiss bring me back to life?”    
  
He was growing stronger, and stronger. Energy crackled through him, sucked from the disciples that stood around where he floated in air.   
  
Poor little Lucy seemed distressed. “You’re killing them!”   
  
“Oh, let them die. They’re just the first! The whole stinking stupid human disgrace can fall into the pit. Can you hear it Lucy? The noise? The drum beats, louder than ever before. The drums. The neverending drums. Oh I have missed them!”    
  
But Lucy wasn’t playing along, she had forgotten her role. She stood up, and began to speak back. She spoke back to  _him_ !   
  
“No one knew you better than I did. I knew you’d come back. And all this time your disciples have prepared, but so have we!” she shouted, turning to her guard to grab a vial.   
  
“What have you being doing?” he said.   
  
“The secret book of Saxon spoke of the potions of life, and I was never that bright. But my family has contacts. People who were clever enough to calculate the opposite,” she said holding the vial up to him.   
  
Likely as not, no tiny human brain could have developed an emulsion to counter his, but since his resurrection was not yet complete, he was still vulnerable to disruption.    
  
“Don’t you dare, I’m ordering you Lucy, you will obey!”    
  
Even as he shouted, his Time Lord senses pulled at him, and the Master sniffed the air, knowing that  _he_  was nearby. Sure enough, a familiar pinstriped form burst in through the door of this dungeon-like room, just as Lucy pulled back her arm to throw the vial.   
  
“Till death do us part, Harry!” she shouted.   
  
“No!” shouted the Doctor, grabbing her arm. “Lucy, don’t. It’s already gone too far, that won’t do anything but unbalance his energies, creating an explosion. He would still survive.”   
  
Probably true, probably true. But not certain. The Master smirked at the Doctor, who never stopped trying to save him. Oh, what a delightful dance, especially now that it was only the two of them left in the universe. The Master felt the energies finish coalescing and he drifted down, till his bare feet touched the floor.   
  
His happy reunion was interrupted by the stomach-twisting awareness that heralded the arrival of the Freak. That infuriatingly handsome face — no make how many times he cut it, it just would not scar — was twisted into a scowl, and he was aiming a rather large firearm.   
  
The Master was not at his imposing best at the moment, standing naked in a ring of the dead bodies of the inner circle of his disciples. He wondered where the rest were, but nothing else to do but carry on for now. At least he had plenty of life energy. . .in fact, he had a surfeit energy. He clenched a fist and felt the electricity move through his body into his hand. Oh this certainly had possibilities. . .he took a step towards the Doctor.   
  
“Stay right there, Harry,” said Jack. “Don’t think I won’t shoot if I need to, no matter what the Doctor says.”   
  
“Now Jack, is that any way to greet an old friend?” said the Master, holding out his hand. He grinned and flicked out his fingers, sending a bolt of electricity towards Jack, knocking him off his feet. He continued pouring his energy into the Freak’s body; he was an expert at killing this man, and planned to kill him dead enough that he’d be out of the picture for quite a while. The drum beats grew louder, and louder.   
  
“No!” screamed Lucy, running toward him. Without thinking, he flicked a bolt of energy at her, and she crumpled to the ground. Dead, of course. She was only human. She made a rather small, sad pile. Strange he had spent so many hours with this woman, and now she was gone. Ah well, she’d served her purpose. Humans never lasted long anyway.   
  
“Master,” said a quiet voice, and he shivered. He did like it when the Doctor said his name. “Please let me help. You’re burning up your own life force.”   
  
He smiled. The Doctor did actually care for him. Seemed like the worse he acted, the more the Doctor cared. He was also probably right about the life force thing. He could feel a gnawing ache inside.    
  
“I’m so hungry. . .” he said.   
  
“You’re resurrection went wrong. That energy — your body is ripped open. You’re killing yourself,” said the Doctor.   
  
The Master looked at the Freak — still dead. He could smell the burnt flesh. It smelt good. Tasty even. He really was  _very_ hungry.   
  
“You know, Doctor, that Freak of yours is a regular larder. I bet if I paced myself properly, I could start eating the flesh at one end, and it will have grown back by the time I reach the other end.” Ooh, that was something he never thought to try on the Valiant.   
  
“Master, I will not let you. . . “ said the Doctor in a warning tone. The drums echoed along, in time with the words.   
  
Suddenly, the Master was tired of it. It always came to this, the Doctor placing the needs of his companions over those of his oldest friend. His hand shot out and sent a bolt toward the Doctor, striking him in the chest. He pulled back when the Doctor staggered, and then sent another one. The Doctor started to sag, and the Master ran up to catch him, easing him down onto the floor. Unconscious, but okay. He’d been very careful.   
  
Now he turned his attention to the last person in the room. The traitorous female guard, who’d passed Lucy the vial. She huddled in the corner, quite properly terrified. He read her name off her uniform.   
  
“Tell me, Ms. Hersch, where are we? Who’s controls this place?” he said in a friendly tone, walking towards her.    
  
“Broadfell prison. We’re in the lower basement. The whole building is controlled by the Saxon disciples,” she stammered.   
  
“Ah good. Now, go tell the remaining disciples to fetch me some dinner, and some clothes. Unless of course you’d prefer to serve as dinner,” he said, chuckling at his joke. His hand reached out to touch her face.   
  
She was so scared. The Coles had paid her well to look after their daughter, and she’d failed, and now she was trapped in a basement with a mad sorcerer. But it would be okay, as long as she followed the Master’s orders, everything would be fine. He’d take care of everything.   
  
She hurried off, happy now. He loved the weak-willed. He looked over at the Freak and smiled. Then again, he liked a challenge too. He went over to the body and dragged it to some handy chains — very interesting basement, in this prison, but he supposed it was his followers doing. He secured the body without even taking a nibble, at least for now. He didn’t want to start in until he could give Jack his full attention. The drums continued, and he remembered timing the slice of his knife to that beat and smiled.   
  
The Doctor was just starting to stir when three disciples arrived, one carrying his clothes, and two with trays of food. Oh lovely, it looked like a Christmas dinner! The clothes included his favorite black suit, and the stupid women even managed to remember the shoes. He dressed rather quickly, and then dug into the turkey, picking it up the pieces with his hands and stuffing the food into his mouth. Hungry, hungry, hungry. He ignored the three women staring at him and they went away.   
  
However, he felt the moment the Doctor’s eyes fluttered open and focused on him. The Doctor tried to push himself upright, but then sank back down. The Master kept eating.   
  
The Doctor finally managed to pull himself up enough to rest against a wall. He began speaking in a conversational tone.   
  
“You could be so wonderful, you know. You’re a genius, you’re stone cold brilliant you really are. But you could be so much more. You could be beautiful. With a mind like that, we could travel the stars, it would be my honor. You don’t need to own the universe, just see it. To have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space. That’s ownership enough.”   
  
The way the Doctor painted the picture tugged at him. Would it be so bad, traveling with the Doctor? Yes, the Doctor would be trying to reform him, but then, he could also be trying to corrupt the Doctor. A much more personal version of their dance. A dance to the four beats in his head. He put down his food for a moment.   
  
“Would it stop then, the noise in my head?” he asked.   
  
“I can help,” said the Doctor.   
  
“I don’t know what I’d be, without that noise.”   
  
The Doctor looked at him, searching his face. “I wonder what I’d be, without you?”   
  
The Master swallowed. He could hear the unspoken words, their connection across time and space. The Master and the Doctor, each defining the other.   
  
“Tell me, where’s your TARDIS?” he finally asked.   
  
The Doctor blinked. “Well, actually I’ve managed to misplace it for the moment. I’m sure I’ll get it back soon, though.”   
  
“Ah, so that offer to travel wasn’t a sincere one, then?”   
  
The Doctor frowned. “It was sincere. It just might take a little time. But I would protect you.”   
  
The Master stuffed a final roll into his mouth and then walked over to sit next to the Doctor, swallowing his food. “I had estates, once. Do you remember my father’s Oakdown home? Pastures of red grass, stretching far across the slopes of Mount Perdition? We used to run across those fields all day, calling up at the sky. Look at us now.”   
  
“Spoken eloquently, but how many people have you killed?” asked the Doctor.   
  
“Haven’t really kept count. How many have you?”   
  
He grinned as the Doctor looked away. Sometimes it was just too easy.   
  
His musings were interrupted by the sound of booted feet, falling in step to the drumbeats. He stood up in time to see a soldier in black armor stride into the room, followed by two pairs of helmeted underlings, each escorting a prisoner — one man, one woman - with black bags over their heads. The helmeted guards forced the prisoners to their knees, hands bound behind them.   
  
“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.   
  
The lead soldier halted and stood to attention. He had an air of “just following orders” morality that the Master always appreciated. At least in his followers.   
  
“Harold Saxon, I bring greetings from Joshua Naismith. He has a business proposition to offer you, and he sends these prisoners as a show of good faith,” said the leader.   
  
“Ooh, I do love presents. But what sort of business proposition?” asked the Master.   
  
“He has access to alien technology, but needs your help in making in operational. He can provide more details himself shortly — he’s on his way here now.”   
  
“Ah, well let’s see what you’ve brought me, then,” said the Master, approaching the first prisoner and pulling off the bag. A pair of cold blue eyes stared at him.   
  
“Ah, Mr. Jones, so good to see you again! You won’t remember me, of course, but we had such good times together. Until Jack Harkness killed you, unfortunately. Only time I ever saw him cry. Did he tell you about his little vacation on the Valiant? Did you know he snapped your neck?”   
  
Ianto Jones gave him a faint smile and his calm gaze never wavered. “I’m sure he had a good reason,” he said.    
  
The Master frowned. Now he remembered how much he hated the blue-eyed stare of the Welshman. Plucking his eyes out had quickly taken care of it, but he’d have to wait until Jack woke up again. The drum beats grew louder still.   
  
“Master. . .” said the Doctor, trying to push himself up the wall. He let out a gasp and collapsed back to the floor.   
  
“Quiet, you. I’m greeting my new guests. Now, let’s see who’s under bag number two. Miss Sato, perhaps? Or the lovely Ms. Cooper?” With a flourish, he pulled off the second bag.   
  
And let out a gasp of his own. Oh my, oh it couldn’t be, oh this was just too, too precious.   
  
“No!” shouted the Doctor, pulling himself upright and staggering toward the Master. Without taking his eyes off the woman in front on him, the Master shot a quick energy bolt at the Doctor, forcing him to collapse once more.   
  
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Rose Tyler. I have it on good authority that you are dead. Several good authorities, as a matter of fact, because I checked very, very carefully. I was so very eager to meet you. Where in the world was he hiding you?”   
  
She smiled up at him, a cheeky smile with no sign of fear at all. “Not in the world at all, or the universe either, for that matter. But I wasn’t hiding, I was stuck, and now I’m back. I take it you’re the Master?   
  
He lightly traced the line of her jaw, and she did not flinch. Interesting. “Yes, I’m the Master. He’s told you about me?”   
  
“Yeah, he showed me a little bit of it, at least. It’s sad when childhood friends have a falling out. I’m sorry,” she said.   
  
Her words hit him unexpectedly hard. He stared at her, looking for signs of mockery or defiance. All he could see was friendly sympathy. He felt unbalanced. The drum beats focused him.   
  
“Yes, it is very sad. And really, it’s all your fault. The lesser species, all of you, pulling at him. Why? What is it about this stinking planet? And why you, Rose Tyler? Why of all the humans in all of space and time should he tear himself apart over you?” he asked.   
  
“Oh, that’s an easy one,” she said. “Simplest thing in the universe. I love him and he loves me. That’s all there is to it.” Her face lit up and her eyes shone. . .he’d never seen an expression like it, not even Lucy at her most besotted. He stumbled backwards.   
  
“No, no possible. There’s more to it, I know, and I’ll find out if I have to peel you apart layer by layer,” he said, scowling.    
  
“Sergeant,” he continued, addressing the lead soldier, “You can tell Mr. Naismith he has a deal. If he will allow me time and space to entertain my guests, then I’ll do what I can with the alien technology.   
  
There was a familiar loud gasp as Jack Harkness revived. He rattled at his chains, but stopped when they did not yield. He looked around, assessing the situation.   
  
“Ah, and the Freak returns just in time. Alright, then, let’s prepare to move out,” said the Master.   
  
“Not so fast,” said a voice in his ear, and an arm snaked around his throat. The barrel of a gun pressed against his back, directly behind his right heart, and he grew still.   
  
But that voice, and that mind. . .    
  
“Doctor?” he said. He looked over at the Doctor slumped against the wall, who was now smiling. “Are you crazy?  _You crossed your own timeline over one human girl?_ ”   
  
“Never mind that,” said the Doctor in his ear. “Tell your goons to put down their weapons.”   
  
“They’re not  _my_  goons, they’re Naismith’s goons.” At the insistent pressure of the gun against his back he relented. “Alright, alright. Fellows, best do as the man says if you want to get me to Naismith in one piece.”   
  
The five soldiers reluctantly lay down their guns, and at the Doctor’s direction knelt down facing the wall, hands on their heads. Rose Tyler, who had somehow wiggled out of her cuffs, leapt to her feet and gave him a big smile. No, gave the  _Doctor_ a big smile, and that’s who she was looking at before when she glowed so bright, and that whole conversation was a distraction, damn her.   
  
She ran over to the other Doctor still sitting on the floor and he patted her reassuringly. She reached into his coat pocket and pulled out that silly screwdriver and proceeds to free Jack and Ianto. The Master tilted his head, hearing the sounds of fighting coming from above.   
  
“Sounds like UNIT arriving, and possibly clashing a bit with Naismith’s back up,” said the Doctor who was holding the gun.   
  
The Master sighed. He was well and truly beaten now. He might as well take the Doctor up on his offer; maybe the Doctor could help stabilize this resurrection. Sooner or later the other Time Lord would drop his guard; the Master could be patient. Certainly better than returning to a UNIT prison.   
  
“Alright, alright. You can put away that ridiculous gun now. We both know you would never use it.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” said the Doctor’s voice in his ear, “But yes I would.”   
  
There was a loud bang, and at first the Master didn’t connect it with the pain in his chest, because it made so little sense. The Doctor had shot him. The Master had yielded, the Doctor’s pets were in no danger, and he had still shot him. The Master collapsed, and the Doctor gently eased his body to the ground, and stood over him, with the gun still pointed at him.   
  
He’d have to regenerate this time; there were no further backup arrangements. Perhaps the regeneration would stabilize the leaking energy. He did still have enough energy left to regenerate, he could feel it. But why was the Doctor still pointing his gun?    
  
“No!” shouted the Doctor, the other Doctor who was now struggling to stand up. And suddenly the Master realized that he hadn’t felt the timelines clash. Two Doctors and no paradox. Why?   
  
He looked up at the man holding the gun, who was looking at him with sorrow. “You’re not the Doctor, are you?”   
  
“Oh, I’m the Doctor alright. I’m the Doctor that was born of blood and anger and revenge.” But there was no anger or revenge in his gaze, only sadness, as he aimed the gun and shot the Master’s left heart.   
  
“I’m the Doctor who would.”   
  
Both hearts gone, and his body went into emergency shutdown, diverting all energy to preserving the brain long enough to survive regeneration. He lost all sensation from the neck down, and focused the wave of energy building in his cells, trying to speed it up.    
  
It was quiet, very quiet in his head. The drums had gone. He felt the timelines shrug and realized that maybe the drums were never there in the first place. Maybe it was his insanity all along. He opened his mouth to tell the Doctor, but couldn’t speak.    
  
And the Doctor was aiming the gun again, right at his head. The Master could hear the frantic pleas of the other Doctor in the background — the Doctor that never would — but the Doctor with the gun never wavered.   
  
“I’m so sorry, Koschei,” he said in Gallifreyan, and the truth of that sorrow rang like a bell. There were tears in his eyes, and those tears frightened the Master more than rage would have. “I’m sorry, but no twenty-second chances.” The gun fired.


	14. Chapter 14

Gun at the ready, the Doctor stared down at the body of the Master for a full minute. No sign of regeneration. He put away the weapon, and unbuckled the arm holster and handed it silently back to Ianto. Only then did he meet the furious gaze of the Time Lord Doctor.   
  
“You didn’t have to do that!” shouted the Doctor, who had finally managed to struggle upright.    
  
“I did have to do that, because I was the only one who could,” said the other Doctor. He switched to Gallifreyan, lowering his voice. “Theta, he was never going to change. No matter how careful you were, he would have eventually gotten loose and hurt someone we cherished. Koschei was gone, long gone, destroyed by the Master, and he was never going to come back.”   
  
“You don’t know that, not for sure,” said the Doctor, his voice breaking.   
  
“Yes, I do. And somewhere deep in your hearts, so do you.”   
  
The rage in the Time Lord Doctor’s face shattered, leaving only deep sorrow. His body was swaying, and the other Doctor pulled out his sonic to give the Time Lord a quick scan. The Doctor’s body had dissipated the energy from the Master’s attack with no permanent damage, but it was showing signs of stress — exhaustion, actually. Time to wrap this up.   
  
“Doctor,” he said quietly, gaining the Time Lord’s attention. “There is still some residual regeneration energy in the body. I’d prefer not to let UNIT get its hands on it.”   
  
The Doctor cocked his head to the side. The other Doctor’s human ears couldn’t hear anything, but he suspected they had only a few minutes before UNIT soldiers arrived in the sub-basement. The Time Lord met his eyes and nodded.   
  
The Doctor paused, allowing the Time Lord a moment to say a mental goodbye. He himself had already said his goodbyes, so instead he watched the man that shared his features try to keep himself composed. Then he pulled out his sonic and aimed it at the body. The residual regeneration energy was already woven through every cell, so it took only a little excitation to translate that energy into heat. There was a bright flash, and then where the Master’s body had lain, there was only a layer of dust. The Time Lord knelt down beside it, just staring.   
  
The other Doctor looked around. Ianto, thank goodness, had picked up a weapon and was covering the kneeling soldiers, just in case they thought to take advantage of the Doctors’ distraction. Jack and Rose were standing a respectful distance away, watching the Time Lord Doctor grieve. The other Doctor removed the TARDIS key from his neck, disabled the perception filter with a wave of the sonic, and handed it back to Rose.   
  
“Jack, Rose, I need you to get the Doctor past UNIT and to the TARDIS.” Rose opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor cut her off. “He’s been pushed to the ragged edge, and he needs the TARDIS, and he shouldn’t be alone. Please.”   
  
“What about you?” Rose asked with a frown.   
  
“Ianto and I will wrap things up here. You all can meet us back in Cardiff,” he said firmly. He was absolutely not going to entertain ideas of Rose staying here with him. She belonged on the TARDIS, and the Time Lord needed her, and that was that.   
  
_But you need her, too_  whispered a voice, which he firmly squelched.   
  
“Jack,” he started, and then swallowed. “Jack, I promised the TARDIS I’d oil her stabilizers. Don’t know if he’ll be up for focusing on routine maintenance for a while. . .” It was starting to hit him that he probably wasn’t going to step foot on the TARDIS again. Ever.   
  
Jack patted his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”   
  
“Thank you,” he said.   
  
“No Doctor, thank  _you_ ,” said Jack, looking over at the proper Doctor. Looking at the layer of dust that had been the Master. The Doctor felt a bit better. Here was one friend that might sleep a little easier because of his actions.   
  
He turned resolutely away as Rose and Jack went to the proper Doctor, urging him to his feet. Instead he went to Ianto, taking the rifle he had trained on the subdued looking soldiers.   
  
“I’ll cover them until UNIT arrives, which should be any second. What I need you do to is find something to sweep up the dust left over from the Master and a bag to stash it in. I’ll distract UNIT while you do.”   
  
Ianto frowned. “You think someone could use it? To bring him back  _again_ ?”   
  
“It should be impossible, but with the Master I’d rather not take chances.”   
  
Ianto nodded and disappeared out the door and down the corridor. Moments later, the red bereted UNIT soldiers appeared, taking in the dead bodies and the live captives.   
  
“Greetings, gentlemen! So glad you could make it,” said the Doctor, with a welcoming smile.   
  
The next few hours reminded the Doctor why he used to never stick around for clean up. There were questions to answer and paperwork to fill out and practicalities to arrange, like a ride back to Cardiff.   
  
Finally, it was almost dawn and Ianto was driving them back in a UNIT-requisitioned vehicle, with an ordinary trash bag containing the Master’s ashes in the boot. Oh, how he would’ve hated that indignity! They had driven almost an hour in silence before Ianto spoke up.   
  
“Doctor? If you don’t mind me asking, why was the other Doctor so opposed to your killing the Master? You’ve both got the same memories of the man. . .”   
  
The Doctor sighed. “The Master was my best friend when we were children, and part of me always hoped he would heal, hoped he could go back. But that’s wasn’t the real problem. The Doctor and the Master were linked — all Time Lords were linked — in a way that I can’t properly explain.”   
  
“You mean like the way you and the TARDIS are linked?”   
  
“No, it’s different and much deeper than that. More fundamental. It’s not exactly like a collective consciousness, but it has the same effect. By killing the Master, I killed part of the Doctor. It was like hacking off one of his arms,” said the Doctor.   
  
“Oh. And it’s not like that for you anymore?” asked Ianto.   
  
“No. It‘s one of the greatest blessings of my new humanity, that I don’t hear the silence anymore. I can’t feel the empty place where the Time Lords used to be. I can remember that it hurt, but I don’t feel it anymore. For the Doctor to have that emptiness filled, even by a madman, and then lose it again. . .well, he’s probably not in a very good place right now.”   
  
“Which is why you sent Rose and Jack with him,” said Ianto, in such a calm voice that the Doctor realized he was fighting resentment over Jack leaving with the Doctor — again.   
  
“Don’t worry, Ianto. He’ll come back to you.”   
  
“And Rose? Will she come back to you?” asked Ianto quietly.   
  
The Doctor sighed. “I don’t know. For her sake, I hope not.” They drove the rest of the way in companionable silence.   
  
When they arrived in Cardiff, Gwen was there, understandably miffed to return from her holiday with Rhys and the baby to an empty Hub. But she took one look at them and sent them directly to Ianto’s flat for some sleep.   
  
By the time they reported for duty, it was mid-afternoon, and the Doctor was feeling a bit more clear-headed. He was also getting a little worried that Jack, at least, hadn’t returned. He hoped his reassurances to Ianto weren’t misplaced.   
  
Then the TARDIS song filled his mind. He just closed his eyes a moment before calling out across the main room to Ianto and Gwen. “I think he’s back.”   
  
Sure enough, CCTV showed the TARDIS sitting on the Plass, and then the doors opened to reveal Jack, and the Doctor. No Rose.   
  
Jack put his hand to the communicator in his ear, and his voice echoed from the com unit speakers. “Hey kids, I’m back. Doc, you mind coming up for a minute? The other Doctor wants to talk with you before the TARDIS moves on.”   
  
The other Doctor sighed. As much as he understood the Time Lord’s pain, he wasn’t in the mood for another “dangerous genocide” lecture. Even if he did just cut the population of Time Lords in half. But he also couldn’t just sulk here in the Hub. He got up from his workstation to grab his coat.   
  
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.    
  
When he reached the Plass, Jack was just exiting, and he patted the Doctor’s shoulder in passing. The Time Lord Doctor stood waiting, a little ways from the TARDIS, hands in his pockets. When the Doctor reached him, he began to stroll towards the Water Tower, and the human Doctor fell into step beside him. It reminded him of his conversation with Rose, except for the fact they were not holding hands.   
  
“Is Rose okay?” he asked.   
  
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s decided to stay on the TARDIS,” said the proper Doctor. “She wants to talk with you, but I wanted to talk first.”   
  
The human Doctor stopped walking, and ignored his clenching stomach. “It’s okay, Doctor. Really. She belongs on the TARDIS, and I just want her to be happy.”   
  
“I agree, and that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about. It’s taking me some time to realize it, but I owe it to you to say thank you.”   
  
The Doctor wondered just how long the Time Lord and Rose and Jack traveled before returning to Cardiff. “Thank you? For what?”   
  
“For stopping the monster I never could,” he said sadly.   
  
“I wish that I could’ve found another way.”   
  
“Yeah, me too.” The Time Lord Doctor was silent a moment. He cleared his throat. “You know, if you have to pick one place and time to live in, the Hub’s not a bad choice. Lots of interesting things turn up, and there’s good company to be had.”   
  
Was the Time Lord going to offer him a lift somewhere or somewhen else? He wasn’t interested. “Yes, I sort of stumbled onto it, but it feels like home now.”    
  
Okay, that was a lie. Exaggeration at least. The Hub’s as much like home as any place that’s not the TARDIS could feel like.   
  
“So I was thinking, maybe I should take a break from traveling and stay here a while. A little vacation on the slow path, so to speak.” said the Doctor nonchalantly.   
  
Huh? The Doctor wanted to work with him here at the Hub? He was flattered, he supposed, but it wouldn’t take long for them to rub each other the wrong way. He was trying to figure out a way to say that diplomatically, when the proper Doctor continued.    
  
“Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to the TARDIS to have to stay in one place all that time, so maybe you and Rose could take her out for a spin.”   
  
What? What? What?!! “Are you joking?”   
  
The proper Doctor grinned, appearing delighted with the reaction he got. “Nope.”   
  
“But what would you do?”   
  
“Oh, I thought I’d start with Jaffa cakes and Welsh lessons,” said the proper Doctor with a smile.   
  
The other Doctor huffed in amusement. “Ianto is a patient teacher.” This was a real offer, the Doctor was serious. But. . .“But what if something happens to me? No regenerations. . .I don’t want to strand you.”   
  
“Ah, well, I have a brilliant solution to that. I’ve programmed the TARDIS to automatically return to Cardiff if you and Rose are both. . .well, if you both are out of the picture.” The Time Lord Doctor looked extremely pleased with himself.   
  
“And what will Rose think of all this?”   
  
The proper Doctor’s smile turned wry. “Well, actually, it was her idea.”   
  
Aha. Now it made a bit more sense. He could never deny Rose anything, even if it was a bad idea. He frowned. “Are you sure? Really sure? Because I know Rose loves you too.”   
  
The Doctor’s gaze turned distant. “She does, and I. . .well you already know how I feel. But I can’t protect her heart like you can. I just don’t have that instinctive feel for when my words or actions hurt her. There are some human behaviors I can’t pretend. You remember what it was like with Sarah Jane.” He did, both from before and after he was human.   
  
“So, unless you want to follow the suggestion Jack made and share. . .” said the proper Doctor. The other Doctor bristled. He could see yielding Rose to the Time Lord, but sharing? No.    
  
The Time Lord spotted his reaction immediately. “Yeah, I told him Time Lords don’t share well.”   
  
“Neither do human-Time Lord metacrises,” said the other Doctor.   
  
“Quite right. So what do you say? Borrow the TARDIS, and bring her back in a year?”   
  
The other Doctor smiled. “Better make it six months.” He pulled the Time Lord into a hug. “Thank you, thank you so much.”   
  
The proper Doctor whispered to him in Gallifreyan. “Thou art my brother. There is no place for thanks among family.”   
  
“Brother,” whispered the other Doctor in return. He would blame his tears on his human biology, except the Time Lord’s eyes were wet too.   
  
He should go gather a few things, and say his goodbyes. Except he was rubbish at goodbyes, and the TARDIS would have everything he would need. He looked across the Plass at the TARDIS, and the door cracked open.   
  
“Go on, then,” said the Time Lord with a smile.   
  
The other Doctor needed no further urging. He broke into a sprint across the Plass, filled with the joy of running, the feel of freedom. He burst through the TARDIS door and then closed it behind him, only to be slammed back against the closed door by an armful of Rose Tyler. She was kissing him, he was kissing her, and oh it was so sweet.   
  
He pulled back to take a breath and look at her face. “So, where should we go first?”   
  
She grinned at him, with that flirt of a tongue peeking out. “Well, I thought maybe we could just hang out in the vortex for a week or so, and get reacquainted.”   
  
“That, Rose Tyler, is a brilliant idea.” He set the controls to take them into the vortex, and on towards their future.


	15. Chapter 15

His TARDIS was full of ghosts. Well, not ghosts per se, but morphic resonances of the humans who’d lived here for the previous fifty-two years, nine months, and six days. He could feel the love and laughter, and the pain and arguments, and hear the echoes of children playing hide and seek down the corridors. It was strangely comforting. He suspected the TARDIS was integrating him into the internal reality she’d experienced, traveling with Rose and the other Doctor, away from him. It was a relatively long time for a ship to be separated from her pilot, and this was her way of re-establishing their close link.   
  
Of course, for him it had only been six months, more than enough time for his “slow path” vacation. The other Doctor had been right about that — if he’d spent a whole year, he’d have probably gone a bit mad. Or more likely, driven the humans around him mad. It wasn’t just the linear time, or the need to integrate into the human social customs of this time and place, that began to wear on him. It was that the Hub, in the end, was Jack’s territory, and the Doctor had been on his own too long to bow to another man’s authority, even a friend like Jack. Or maybe especially a friend like Jack.   
  
So when the TARDIS song began echoing in his mind, his first reaction was profound relief. He’d taken a risk, he knew, turning her over to the human Doctor — to his human brother — and he was glad to find his trust was not misplaced. He got up from his workstation to go to the CCTV monitor. There she was, his old blue box, sitting on the Plass.   
  
The doors did not open. They continued not to open for the next five minutes, and the Doctor finally had to admit the truth — the TARDIS returned to him on her own. Something had happened to Rose and the human Doctor. He’d best go check on his ship. He grabbed his coat and headed for the exit.   
  
“Planning on leaving without saying goodbye?” said a soft Welsh voice behind him.   
  
He jumped. Ianto Jones could move very quietly indeed.   
  
“Ah, no, I was just going to check on the TARDIS first. . .” he began.   
  
“It’s okay, Doctor. You go ahead. But as a favor, once you’ve gotten settled in, would you stop back to let us know what happened? He was our friend, too, and you know how Jack feels about Rose,” said Ianto.   
  
“Ah, of course. Yes, I’ll be back to catch you up,” he replied. After all, he’d need to refuel sometime anyway, so he might as well time it to stay temporally synchronized with this Torchwood. “Thank you, Ianto. For everything. Under other circumstances, I’d be inviting you to come with me.”    
  
As it was, he knew there was no way he’d pry Ianto from Jack, or Jack from Cardiff.   
  
“Under other circumstances, I’d be saying yes,” said Ianto with a smile.   
  
The Doctor escaped to the TARDIS with no further interruptions. She was very glad to see him, but did not seem in particular distress, which was a relief. He’d been expecting her to be grieving for Rose and the Doctor, but instead he detected a contented hum to her under-song.   
  
On the console was a letter, with the Greek letter Theta on the envelope. He opened it and began to read.   
  
_Theta, my brother,  
  
If you are reading this - which of course you are, or what would the point be? Although I suppose it could be someone else reading this, in which case you should be ashamed of yourself.   
  
Anyway, if you are reading this, then we are not there in person to return your TARDIS. I am sorry. But please do not grieve for us, because we have had a fantastic life, truly. I am an old man now by human standards, and a father, and a grandfather again, if you can believe it. I suppose it must’ve been part of my human biological imperative to have children with Rose, despite the adventurous life we’ve led. Being a parent again has been the more terrifying adventure of all, but it’s been brilliant as well.  
  
You’ll find all the details in a series of journals on the writing desk in the main library. They are Rose’s journals, and they are written to you. I have never read them myself — they were her way of staying connected to you through time and space. She loves you still, you can be sure of that.  
  
There are, however, some adventures missing from the journals, so as to avoid spoilers. However, I can safely tell you that you  _will_  see us both again — I know this, because you will tell me I told you, so don’t forget to do so when you see me next.   
  
Ellesonar nessdante,  
  
Sigma_   
  
The Doctor folded the letter and smiled. Well, that had gone as well as he’d hoped. He’d even been spared seeing them approach death. Which was shallow, he supposed, but he liked them living in his memory young and happy. The TARDIS sang around him and he was glad to be home.   
  
He took the TARDIS into the vortex for a thorough diagnostics and maintenance overall. His brother had actually kept a detailed log of all the work he’d done on her, which was very unlike him, and was no doubt a sign of the gratitude he felt for being trusted with the TARDIS.    
  
The Doctor noticed the morphic resonances as he was fiddling with the engines — for a moment he could sense his human brother, happily fiddling alongside. After that, he felt the echoes of their lives throughout the ship, small moments out of time. They would gradually fade, he knew, as he was reintegrated into the TARDIS’s internal reality. But for now they were a comforting distraction from his aloneness.   
  
The kitchen in particular seemed the focus of a great deal of activity, and he found himself spending time actually preparing meals there, rather than relying on the TARDIS. He even baked a batch of cookies on a whim. An even dozen, which was why he was surprised to find only eight on the plate the next time he returned to the kitchen.   
  
Morphic resonances could not eat cookies.   
  
Alerted now to the possibility of an intruder on his ship, he sent a stern inquiry to the TARDIS. She sent back such an innocent-sounding hum that he was strongly reminded of Rose trying to conceal a bit of mischief from him. With a bit more pushing, he established that there was no threat to the ship, and that the stowaway was currently in the library.   
  
He entered the library silently and found a young curly-haired woman, stretched out on the couch, engrossed in a book. Great Expectations, he noted with approval. He walked up quietly, standing right behind her head.   
  
“Hullo!” he said cheerfully. She gave a gratifying jump, and then recovered admirably.    
  
Leaping to her feet, she offered her hand. “Hullo to you! You must be the Doctor.”   
  
He shook it firmly. “Well, yes, since it’s my ship, I must be. Who must you be, and what are you doing here?”   
  
“I’m Danika, but most call me Dani. And it’s my birthday. Or it was when I got on the TARDIS,” she said.   
  
“Happy birthday, Dani. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here,” he said.   
  
“Actually, it does. You see, when all my cousins turned eighteen, Grandfather and Grandma Rose took them for a trip in the TARDIS. Anywhere they wanted to go, within reason. Except my mum is a ninny, and refused to let me go — she thinks it’s too dangerous. And Grandfather refused to over-ride her, even though I’m an adult now,” she said with a frown.   
  
Ah, now he recognized those brown eyes. Rose got that look when she was being especially stubborn about something.   
  
“So what happened next?” he asked.   
  
“Well, what happened is that I borrowed Grandma Rose’s key and snuck onto the TARDIS and tried to get her to take me someplace,” she said.   
  
“You tried to steal the TARDIS?!”   
  
“Well, it’s sort of a tradition, isn’t it?” She grinned at him unrepentantly. He was having a very hard time looking stern.    
  
She continued. “Anyway, it didn’t quite work. I invoked some sort of emergency protocol and ended up in Cardiff, where I knew you’d be. You really do look just like Grandfather when he was young! So I decided to lay low for a while.”   
  
“Alright then, Dani, best get you back home. Your mum and grandparents will be worrying about you,” he said.   
  
“But there’s no need to go straight back, is there? It’s a time machine.  _You_  could give my birthday trip! You’re like my uncle, aren’t you? So you can give me a present. Please?” she said. Her eyes really did look just like Rose’s.   
  
He managed to keep the stern look for a few more seconds, and then his grin burst through. “Okay, just one trip then!” He led the way to the console room.   
  
“So,” he said, “Where does the birthday girl want to go?”   
  
“Everywhere!” she said with a grin.   
  
He laughed. “Random destination it is. Allons-y!”   
  
He had a feeling it was going to be fantastic.   
  
_Fin_


End file.
